


Dark

by hifftn



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: A hint of humor, And dark, Comfort, F/M, Mentions of Violence, Mild Spoilers, This one will be angsty, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25800451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hifftn/pseuds/hifftn
Summary: Tora and Poppy go their separate ways now. But what if their paths cross again? Under less than pleasant circumstances...
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 98
Kudos: 138





	1. Mood

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this one will be a tough one for me to write since I'm bad at angst and action, but it's a challenge. I know where I want to go with this but I'm open to suggestions.   
> Also I'm bad at regular updates, just so you are warned.

_It was dark. Pitch black. Tora was hungry and thirsty, and he had to pee. But it was so fucking dark and he had no idea where to go to, so he stayed. They would come back. Eventually they would come back and Mr. Balthuman would let him out again and there would be light and food and a fucking bathroom. He didn’t want to piss his pants, not knowing how long he would have to sit in this damn hole. He clenched his fists hard enough for his nails to break the skin of his palms, the pain a distraction for his fears and the hunger._

Shit. Tora’s eyes snapped open, his breathing was ragged. That dream again. That memory. There it was again, that weight on his chest, as if Vincent fucking Balthuman himself was sitting on Tora’s chest to choke the life out of him. He forced himself into a sitting position, the TV still showing something about luxury cars, adding flickering lights and noises to the otherwise dark and quiet room.

“Fuck,” he muttered and reached for his box of cigarettes. Empty.

“What the goddam fuck!?” There had to be another box somewhere. He rolled off his couch and staggered towards the drawer. What time was it anyway? Sometimes he wished he would drink. It was probably too early to drink, but breaking some stupid societal rules would feel good at least. He found his phone instead, a few messages from Gyu, some from Quince. For days no word from her. Of course not. He had told her they were done. Over and out. No need to stay in touch.

“Fuck!” He threw the phone back on the dresser and ran his hands through his hair. He needed a shower.

Poppy blew a strand of her hair from her eyes. It was bothering her all day already. No matter how often she fixed her ponytail, that one strand just escaped and dangled right in front of her eye.

“Ugh!” She would cut it off but she had no scissors.

“Why are you so cranky lately?” Jacob looked up from his paperwork but ducked once he caught Poppy’s glare.

“I’m not cranky,” she objected. This friggin’ strand of hair!

“Is it because you gained weight again?”

“Jacob!” Erdene yelled through the room. “Stop spouting shit like that! Pops is perfect as she is!”

“No, it’s not because I gained weight,” Poppy grated out. She checked her phone. Why did she even do that all the time? There wouldn’t be a message anyway. She knew that. “It’s because I told Mr. Lam I could get Q.B. Noyouko to finish the novel of his late wife!”

She had no clue how to get hold of Noyouko; his old publisher didn’t answer her calls and she had no idea who his new publisher was. And even if, how were the odds they would help a rival company by lending them their writer? She dropped her head on the desk, a loud thud masking her quiet ‘Ouch’.

“Wow, Pops, that sounds - hairy.” For once Jacob tried to be supportive, but there wasn’t much he could do. This was above his paygrade - gosh, it was way beyond what any of them could make possible.

“Yeah, hairy,” she agreed and stabbed at the keys on her keyboard, once again looking up Noyouko in every search engine she could think of.

The bottle shattered on the polished wooden floor; whiskey spilled everywhere, droplets of it hitting the furniture and walls.

“Dammit, he’s in a fucking foul mood,” one of the men whispered to the one next to him.

“Yeah, ever since that guy he wanted to play with got away, Scharch is fucking livid. I heard he broke the finger of a guy yesterday for not greeting him politely enough.”

“Well, to be fair, he broke fingers for fun before that,” the first one pointed out.

“Fucking true.”

Scharch loudly ordered a new bottle. Someone else better cleaned that mess up soon.


	2. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy doubts her abilities, Scharch doubts his underlings, Tora doubts the whole wide world.

It was strange how ‘peaceful’ suddenly turned into ‘boring’. Poppy didn’t need all the excitement in her life, she could do well without the cheating ex-boyfriend, the adorable but secretive thugs, the chases through Ares Street. But she missed the sudden texts, the light banter. The way he just helped her on the one hand and his cute demands on the other. As if a homemade dinner could compensate for everything he had done for her and Mr. Lam. He couldn’t be such a bad person, no matter how much he tried to convince her of his boss level thug status.

His co-workers, on the other hand… Poppy shuddered at the memory of Ben’s beaten up face, the blood everywhere and the panic she had been in wandering around Ares Street. Good thing she had gotten Mr. Lam out of there in time. But now she was in deep trouble again. There was just no way to contact Q.B. Noyouko. And this time Tora wouldn’t be able to help her either. With a deep exhale Poppy straightened up. She could do it. She would call every publisher, every writer’s association, every bookstore if necessary. This was her big chance. Plus, she had a promise to keep.

“How the fuck could he escape?!” Scharch slammed another glass against the wall. Glass shards rained down on the floor; barely anyone paid attention to them, though.

“Yeah, about that…” some young guy piped up, only to get shut down by Scharch before he could finish his sentence.

“Shut the fuck up! You’re here to clean up the mess, nothing else!” He reached for another glass only to find the table next to him empty.

“And I do! But I found something back then in the club and - well, I didn’t pay it much mind until now. Thought it could answer some of your questions, though.” He kept his head down, only reached into his pocket and offered Scharch some note. No eye contact at all. Which was probably why he didn’t see Scharch’s fist coming. With one hand Scharch grabbed the note, the other broke that youngster’s nose.

“You stupid fuck, I am the one to decide whether something is important or not,” Scharch hissed and glanced at the note. This was important. His fist trembled as he crumbled the note. “Why the fuck haven’t you showed me this sooner, you fucking cunt?!”

_These men are dangerous, get out of there as soon as you can. I will create a distraction for you._

One well aimed kick against the side of the head of that guy, still cowering on the floor and holding his nose, and Scharch felt a bit better. It helped watching this young fucker squirm on the floor like some worm, blood gushing out of the cut on his temple, mixing with the blood from his nose.

“T-Dog!” Scharch barked and motioned for some underling.

“It’s T-Bone,” the guy grumbled but shut up when Scharch glared at him.

“I don’t give a fuck about your name, dipshit. Here, take this and find out who sent it.” He handed over the note and exhaled deeply.

“Uhhh… how should I do that?”

“I don’t fucking care, you got that? I’m not here to do your fucking job for you! Goddammit, why is everyone around here such a stupid cunt?” Pointing to the guy on the ground Scharch growled. “Listen, T-Bird, if you don’t want to join that asswipe down there, you better do what I fucking tell you and find the one who sent my target this fucking note!”

“... and he followed her silent invitation, hands slipping under her shirt as his tongue explored her mouth, tasting the sweetness - you’re not even listening, are you?” Quincey let his notebook sink into his lap as he glared at Tora.

“‘m listenin’,” he assured but kept his eyes on the screen. This level was intense.

“Are you now? Fine, what did just happen?” Eyebrow raised in expectation Quincey leaned back against the cushions of his couch.

“They started making out,” Tora summed up the last few paragraphs of Quincey’s latest story.

“Hmph.” 500 words on their first kiss and Tora summarized it in four. “Okay, Mr. Tall Dark and Broody, that one goes to you.” Quincey scribbled a quick note at the side and took a deep breath.

“-hands slipping under her shirt as his tongue explored her mouth, tasting the sweetness he had dreamed of for so long already. She sunk into his embrace, pliant to the fiery assault of his kisses-”

“Yeah, as if,” Tora snorted and launched another attack. This boss was a tough one, but he was tougher.

“What?” His pen tapping against the paper Quincey looked up again.

“That pliant shit. Girls don’t do that.” His overdrive technique was available. Sweet. He slammed the button and grinned at the notification of a critical attack. Piece of cake.

“And you are the big expert on girls now, aren’t you?” With a roll of his eyes Quincey shook his head.

“Nah, but them getting all boneless in an embrace is just - meh. Like kissing a washcloth.”

“Why would anyone want to kiss a washcloth?!” Quincey’s eyes widened. What was Tora trying to tell him?

“It’s a metaphor,” Tora explained. “It’s boring when they just let ya do whatever ya want. Much better when they actually go along and even get demandin’.”

“Demanding? Don’t forget that she’s a young lady and not supposed to have a lover at all, even less a libido. Society has taught her to suppress her own needs.”

Tora shrugged. “Society can stuff it. She ran off into the woods to get that necklace of her late mother back from the scoundrel, she ain’t scared of breaking some society rules. Besides, it’s dark, she’s all alone with that guy. No one will know. And she’s pining for him since chapter two.”

“Huh…” Quincey cocked his head to one side and squinted. This could work. “Okay, what do you want her to do? Take the lead?”

“Nah, she is shy after all. I’m not sayin’ she should drop to her knees and give him a blowjob, just - not faint from some stupid peck. Let her cling to his shirt, not go completely boneless. And when she realizes what she just did - she can push him back.”

“Well, Tora, thank you for your feedback. That was actually quite helpful for once.”

“‘For once’ my ass,” Tora snorted. “Stop actin’ as if I’m stupid.”

“Oh, I know you’re not. But usually you are a bit more reserved about your opinion on the romance aspect of my books. I do appreciate your expertise when it comes to action scenes, though.” Already adding some lines to the scene Quincey fell silent and missed the way Tora rolled his eyes.

“Boom! Take that, ya wimp.” Satisfied with how he had beaten the level Tora leaned back.

“By the way, what happened to the flower girl?” A smirk tugged at Quincey’s lips; he bit the inside of his cheeks to hold it back.

“Who?”

“That Poppy one? You haven’t grinned at your phone in a while and I was just wondering…”

“Yeah, none of your business.” Tora got up and grabbed his cigarettes. The good mood from his victory went up in smoke, he stepped out on the balcony and stared into the night. At least she was safe and out of trouble. Now that he wasn’t a part of her life anymore.


	3. Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More pain for everyone.

Ben coughed. Blood colored his hand dark red, it dripped from his split lip and his nose.   
“Don’t make me ask again,” T-Bone warned and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. His knuckles were bruised, but he was still much better off than this little shithead. “Who the fuck gave you that fucking note?”   
“I - I don’t know,” the boy choked out, eyes swimming in tears. His nose was probably broken.   
T-Bone sighed and rammed his fist into Ben’s stomach. Once, twice, three times. One more for good measure.   
“You stormed into the club, kicking up a fuss and gave that old fart a note. Don’t tell me that was your idea?” He reached into his pocket for the brass knuckles. The next one would really hurt.   
“It wasn’t. Some chick paid me to do it, but I don’t know her name,” the boy whined.   
T-Bone spat on the ground, nose scrunched up in disgust. Weak little shit, thinking he could play with the big boys. “Some nameless chick, huh?”   
Ben nodded.   
“Well, tough luck, kiddo. Someone saw you get into a cab with her. You sure you don’t want to change your story?”   
The metal on T-Bone’s hand glinted in the low light of the alley.   
“I swear, I don’t know her name! She waited for me to see if I really delivered the message and when you guys threw me out she felt bad and took me to a friend!” Ben crawled backwards until he hit a wall.   
“You got three seconds to tell me everything you know about her and the cab you got into. And you’re still lucky it was me who found you. None of the fucking higher ups would be this patient with you, asswipe.” 

There was enough other work to keep Poppy occupied. She had promised to help Jacob with some of the reports and a few shorter texts needed editing. For now she had banned Mr. Lam and the search for Q.B. Noyouko to the back of her mind, but she hadn’t given up yet.   
After all persistence was one of the few good traits she had.   
She glanced out of the window; the sky already showed hints of orange and red. She was tired. But there was nothing waiting for her at home, just an empty apartment and cold leftovers in the fridge. On the other hand she had to get home before it got too late and the buses stopped running. Tora would get angry if he knew she walked home in the dark - or not. He wouldn’t know after all.   
Still, he wasn’t wrong with his paranoia. Not completely at least. She couldn’t be that carefree all the time and she definitely couldn’t afford a cab. Fudge, she could barely afford to get coffee somewhere.   
She had to keep this job. She had to find Noyouko and get Mr. Lam to sign with them. For twice the money she had asked for. Her head was still reeling, this was a big chance. The only ray of hope was the lack of a deadline. Mr. Lam hadn’t said anything and although Poppy was working on it like crazy, it wasn’t as if she had to bring results by tomorrow.   
Her pen cracked as she chewed on it, staining her lips dark blue.   
“Okay Pops, that’s it. You call it a day now,” Erdene announced and pointed to her own lips to make Poppy check hers in a mirror.   
“Oh shoot,” she cursed and rubbed her mouth with her hands.   
“Listen, I get it, you want to nail this job and all, but dammit, girl, you won’t solve this by eating stationery.”   
“I know,” Poppy sighed and reached for her chapstick. Maybe it would help getting the ink off.   
“You wanna go out for a drink? I’m buying,” Erdene offered. Jacob cheered in the background. “Not for you, Jake!”   
“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Dene. I think I just go home and get some sleep. Was a busy week, month, life.” Poppy gave up cleaning her lips. Let people laugh at her in the bus.   
Erdene leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Okay, girl, spill it. It’s not just the job, is it?”   
Poppy bit her bottom lip. “It’s - it’s nothing. Don’t worry.”   
It was nothing after all. Just a kiss and some - she couldn’t even call it dates. Whatever it was, it was over now and she would get over it. No big deal.   
“Okay. But you know you can talk to me about everything, do you? No judging, just listening.”   
“Thanks, Dene. That means a lot to me.” Following a whim Poppy hugged Erdene, holding her tightly before she let go again.   
“I’m off for today. See you tomorrow!” With her bag and her jacket in her hands Poppy rushed out, towards the station. No, talking about him wouldn’t help. It only hurt, hurt, hurt. 

“Fuck, dammit!” Carefully Tora moved his fingers, the knuckles swollen and bloody. The cold water stung, washed the blood away to reveal cuts and bruises. He had definitely lost control back there. Not that Vince minded, though, he had watched in delight as Tora had slammed his fist into that guys face over and over.   
He needed sleep. Actual sleep. Not the nightmares and the panic every fucking night.   
It had gotten worse lately. For a while it had been better, to a point he had almost forgotten about the dreams. But now…   
He grabbed another cigarette, ignored the blood dripping from his hand into the sink. He avoided the look into the mirror, not sure he’d like what he would see.   
How could the hamster have seen past all this shit, trying to find something good about him? There wasn’t anything. He was empty, except for fears and rage. Nothing else left inside of him but the ugly and the scary shit. Yeah, she was better off without him and his darkness in her life.   
Cigarette loosely between his lips he sighed and looked for disinfectant. There was more work tomorrow, and the day after. Vince was on a fucking crusade and Tora was his loyal slaughterer.   
He wished he had something to scrub his brain clean, just like he cleaned his wounds. To keep his thoughts from festering, from poisoning his mind. His dreams.   
It had been better already, but he couldn’t go back to that. He couldn't drag her down with him.


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scharch gets a lesson on botanic, Tora learns about fear and Poppy finds out more about herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going slow and I know it. Do you still enjoy the mundane parts of the story or should I skip the build-up and go directly to the actual plot idea? Because I swear, I have a plan for this... kinda.

“So it definitely was a chick?” Scharch cocked an eyebrow as he stared at T-Bone.  
“Yeah. The boy said so and the note looks quite girly, too. Ya know, with all the flowers and shit.”  
Once again Scharch turned the note in his hand. Soft pink paper, with red flowers in the bottom left corner.  
“True. I can’t imagine any man using this. My cock would fall off if I had to look at this shit for too long,” Scharch agreed. “What the fuck are those anyway?”  
T-Bone shrugged. “No fuckin' idea. Do I look like some fucking botanist?” He reached for a bottle of beer on the bar and snuffled.  
“Let me see,” the man next to them said and reached for the note.  
“Since when can you tell a flower apart from a fucking tree?” Scharch snorted, but handed the piece of paper over.  
“Other than you and your underlings I do read a book every now and then.” Shing Ma glanced at the flowers and chuckled.  
“So? What are those? Daisies? Peonies?” Scharch reached for his glass of whiskey; he gripped it tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white.  
“Have you ever even seen a daisy? They are mostly white and yellow and these are red.”  
Shing Ma shook his head. “No, these are poppies.”  
“Poppies? You sure?” Scharch took the note back and stared at the flowers. They looked like - flowers to him.  
“Very sure. Poppies were used to make opium, I’ve read about that a lot. Really interesting topic.” A last nod and Shing Ma left Scharch and T-Bone to their drinks.  
“Strange guy,” T-Bone muttered once they were alone again.  
“Yeah… but smart at least. So, a chick. Well, you better find her soon or you will take her place.” Scharch downed his whiskey and slapped the note on the counter.  
A chick, huh? That promised to be even more fun.

“Tora? You want another riceball?” Her sweet smile directed at him made his breath hitch in his throat.  
“Sure thing, Bobby.” He followed her into the kitchen, leaned against the doorframe to watch her grab stuff and do her thing.  
“Don’t you think the Bobby joke is getting old? I’m your wife, you should call me something else.” She had drawn her lips into a pout and looked at him from under her lashes. Dammit, she knew exactly what she was doing to him.  
“I call ya sweetheart, too,” he pointed out and reached for her, hands settling on her hips to pull her against him. Her giggle was the sweetest sound ever.  
“And I call you my tiger. Isn’t that nicer than just getting your name wrong?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and beamed up at him.  
“Yeah, sweetheart, I actually like that.” Not that she had ever gotten his name wrong, though. She cooed, screamed, moaned and sometimes even hissed it, and every time she did his heart did this crazy little somersault thing.  
“See? And that’s why-”  
Her round eyes widened further, her mouth opened to an ‘o’ as she slumped down in his arms. Above her heart a flower bloomed, red petals growing from a hole in her chest. Darkness swallowed her up; Tora’s grip wasn’t strong enough to hold onto her. Ripped from him she vanished, left him screaming for her, punching the walls until his hands bled. 

He woke up still screaming. His heart thundered in his chest, with a trembling hand he wiped the cold sweat from his face.  
“What the fuck-?!” This was new.  
Tora forced himself out of bed, a glass of water sounded like a good idea. He stumbled into his kitchen, unable to shake off the image of Poppy falling away from him. He couldn’t hold the glass so he bent down and drank directly from the tab. It was still dark outside, his reflection in the window could have scared him off if he wasn’t used to his own broody self.  
He couldn’t go back to sleep. He couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding, either. Shit. There was just one thing he could think of.  
Her number in his phone taunted him, he skipped it and found the one he wanted to call. It rang a few times before someone answered.  
“Hmmm?”  
“It’s me. Ya have to do something for me.” He looked for his smokes, needing something to keep his hands occupied.  
“You know what time it is?” The sound of fabric rustling and another person stirring was followed by the creaking of a bed and soft footsteps.  
“Yeah, don’t need ya to tell me the time,” Tora grumbled and lit a cigarette. Much better.  
Gyu sighed. “Fine. So why did you call me?”  
“Ya still got a burner phone?”  
“Of course.” Over the phone Tora could hear Gyu close a door. “You need one?”  
“Nah, wouldn’t work for what I have in mind.”  
“And what do you have in mind?” Gyu yawned and sighed deeply.  
“I’ll send ya a number ya gotta call. Make it sound like an honest mistake, ya got the number mixed up, yada yada. I just need to check if the number - if they pick up, okay?” Some ash fell on the couch, Tora just wiped it off.  
“Fine.”  
“Ya gotta do it while I listen,” he added.  
“Now?”  
“‘Cousre now. Would I call ya in the dead of the night if it could wait?” Tora cringed, the wording wasn’t the best.  
“Okay, gimme a sec. I put you on speaker, so you better stay quiet.”  
Patience wasn’t Tora’s strong point, especially not in this situation. He held his breath when he heard Gyu’s other phone dial her number.  
It rang a few times.  
“Hello?” a sleepy voice asked. Relief flooded Tora, his shoulders relaxed as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.  
“Yo, Tony! Man, where are you? I’m waiting here!” Gyu drawled.  
“Huh? Who is this, please?” Poppy asked.  
“Bro, it’s me. Jinji. I’m waiting for you.”  
“Sorry, I’m afraid you are mistaken. There is no Tony here.” She stayed polite despite the early hour.  
“Not? Sorry, my bad. But if you see Tony, tell him I’m waiting, will you?” Gyu hung up before she could reply.  
“Big bro? Still there?” he asked once the burner phone was silent again.  
“Yeah. Thanks, that’s all.” Tora stubbed out his cigarette and leaned back into the cushions of his couch.  
“Lemme guess, I’m not supposed to ask, huh?”  
“Nope. Go back to bed, I’ll call you when I need anything else.” Tora ended the call and breathed deeply. She was at home, apparently had been sleeping. She was safe.  
He needed a better way to check on her in the future, but for now this would do.  
Tora turned on his game console. Shooting something would hopefully help him to clear his mind. 

“I think I got it now.” Erdene leaned against Poppy’s desk and nodded slowly.  
“What?” Poppy barely looked up from her screen as she typed up another report.  
“Delayed reaction. It all fits the usual signs of a heartbreak. Pops, you are moody, sigh a lot, you are brooding and those sad puppy eyes are breaking my heart.” Erdene crossed her arms in front of her and sighed. “So this is still about Julri?”  
Poppy opened her mouth to object, but halfway the words got stuck in her throat. She blinked a few times. She was sighing a lot and she did brood occasionally.  
“Huh,” she exhaled. Heartbreak…  
“So, although I never was a fan of Julri after everything you told me about him, you are my friend and I want to help you and cheer you up. We are going out tonight and you can’t refuse. A nice girls’ night out to get your mind off things.”  
Poppy would need some time to wrap her head around the heartbreak revelation, so why shouldn’t she do so over a cocktail or two?


	5. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs a hobby to blow off some steam sometimes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuun... things are getting serious.

Poppy giggled. Tomorrow she would regret the last cocktail, it was one too many for sure. But right now she felt fine. No, she felt great.   
“Deeeene…” she slurred and clung to her friend. “You are a lifesaver.”   
“Tell me that tomorrow when you are hungover,” Erdene laughed and steered Poppy out of the bar. They bumped into some other partygoers, apologized and eventually Erdene managed to maneuver Poppy into a cab and back home. 

Tora hammered at the punching bag. Somewhere in the gloves his fists were hurting already, but he couldn’t stop. Not until the simmering rage had died down.   
“Yo, big bro Tora! Didn’t know you’re sparring .”  
Tora looked up just long enough to vaguely remember the dreadlock and the face. He grunted and wiped his face with his forearm.   
“Hey, so since we’re both here, how about a sparring match? Just for fun…” the guy asked.   
“Didn’t I give ya a beating last time I saw ya?” His breathing was ragged but Tora was far from being tired.   
“Well, I figured I did something to piss you off. No hard feelings from my side at least.” Yakushi? Yakori? Something like that, Tora couldn’t remember.   
“And now ya want to try to get back at me?” He was still itching to get rid of his restlessness, so Tora wouldn’t mind. “Sure, get ready and come back here.”   
While that guy - Yadori, his name was Yadori - skipped off to get some gloves, Tora took some more swings at the punching bag.   
“Ready, bro!” Like a good little fangirl Yadori came rushing back, rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck while Tora stopped the punching bag from trembling and turned towards his sparring partner.   
“This is just for training, but I won’t go easy on ya,” Tora informed Yadori, guarding his face with his hands.   
“Wouldn’t want you to. I always wanted to see you in action and this is actually great.” He lunged, leaving his right side wide open for Tora to slam his gloved fist against.   
“Uff…” Staggering backwards Yadori’s eyes widened. “Yeah, like that.”   
Tora had to give him credit, he did try. But he danced too much and didn’t guard enough. Again and again Tora landed direct hits, on Yadori’s chest, shoulders and sides. He spared his face; the last time he had broken his nose and he didn’t want to repeat that. Plus, he wanted to avoid blood on his sportswear.  
Yadori hit the floor after another good blow against his side, he crumbled down on hands and knees, gasping for air.   
“Ya okay?” Not that Tora cared much, the boy had asked for him to be serious.   
“Yeah… just… dammit, no wonder they call ya a beast. That was - intense. You think I could tag along next time you are out on a job? Because I think I could learn loads from you.”   
“Ya wanna learn? Get a teacher. I’m not a babysitter or trainer or shit. Sparring was fine, but I don’t need an audience while workin’.”   
He had to admit, though, he felt better now. 

Poppy felt awful. Her head was killing her, every noise stabbed into her brain. Going out hadn’t changed anything really, but at least Erdene was off her back now. She was nursing her own hangover, so aside from Jacob the office was rather quiet for once   
“Hey, you wanna go out for lunch?” Jacob just asked. “I feel like something nice and greasy. Maybe some fries and burgers. Or chicken. What do you say?”   
Erdene retched loudly; at that sound Jacob scrunched up his nose.   
“I don’t feel like eating much today,” Poppy said and checked her cup. Empty again. “I will get something light later.”   
“I need coffee,” Erdene groaned and shuffled towards the door.   
“I need fresh air,” Poppy added and grabbed a book. “I will spend my lunch break outside.”   
The sun helped. With a seat in the shade Poppy listened to the birds chirping in a tree before she opened her book. Q.B. Noyouku of course. After a few pages she was completely immersed. 

“Can’t believe we get to do this in broad daylight.” Claude adjusted his tie once more as he followed Scharch into the restaurant.   
“Why not? Nothing shady’s going on here, it’s all squeaky clean.” Scharch casually leaned against the hostess’ stand and smiled at her. “We are meeting here with someone. A Mister Hofmeister should be waiting for us.”   
The hostess checked her plan and nodded. “He’s already here. Please follow me, gentlemen.”   
“Thank you, Miss.” He flashed her a dazzling smile and watched her cheeks darken with a blush. Claude chuckled behind him; Scharch paid him no mind.  
Mr. Hofmeister was tall but slim, gangly almost, in a suit that looked expensive and tailored. Glasses were the most prominent feature in his otherwise average face; he was one of those people you had forgotten as soon as you turned away from them. But he was also filthy rich and Scharch would butter him up until he was much less rich. Even better, that fuckwit would beg Scharch to take his money once he was done with him. Too bad he was also heavily guarded and there was no way for Scharch to make him beg for mercy, too. Well, one of two wasn’t too bad after all.   
“Fuckin’ idiot has no clue what’s coming for him,” Claude muttered, a grin plastered to his face.   
“Yeah, and I’d ‘preciate it if it stayed that way, so you better tone down that fucking glee,” Scharch hisses from the corner of his mouth, his polite mask barely cracking.   
“Mr. Hofmeister, thank you for taking the time to meet with us.” No trace of anger or annoyance laced his words as Scharch smiled at the other man. 

“You are a fuckin’ genius,” Claude howled as they left the restaurant again. “I have no clue how you do it, but I swear, you can talk anyone into anything. That fucker just kissed a shitload of money goodbye.”   
“It’s a gift,” Scharch grinned and ran a hand through his hair. How he loved making people do what he wanted. It was the ultimate feeling of power. It could have only been better if some blood had been shed. Preferably from anyone but him.   
“You got a fucking silver tongue, bro,” Claude laughed and shook his head. “Five million. That fucker just gave you five million! For nothing! And that hostess slut gave you her number on top! That’s so fucking crazy.”   
Scharch shrugged and hummed. He probably wouldn’t call the hostess anyway, it was too easy. And he liked a good challenge.   
Reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket for his sunglasses Scharch quickly checked their surroundings; in their business it was always smart to know where everyone else was and if they were friends or not. So he spotted the chick under the tree just as she looked up from her book for a moment. She wore her hair in two braids at the side and even from the distance he could tell her eyes were round and brown. Somehow her face rang a bell.   
“Yeah, I’m a fucking magician,” he off-handedly replied and scanned the area once more.   
“How about you go on ahead, I still have something to take care of.”   
He remember now. He had seen her at Chevy’s. She had been with that Lam guy - until Scharch had talked him into leaving with him of course.   
Claude made a face, but when he saw the predatory glint in Scharch’s eyes he shrugged. Fine.   
“Suit yourself. I’m off.” With a lazy wave Claude left, maybe he could get a drink somewhere on his way back.   
Scharch fixed his tie and squared his shoulders. Time to put on his smooth act. 

She had to work on her poker face. Or stop reading steamy novels in public. At least she could excuse her flushed face with the sun. This Noyouku had a vivid imagination and a way to paint rather explicit pictures with his words. There was no way she could get him to work with her EVER.   
But she would be damned if she stopped trying. Flipping the pages to a tamer scene Poppy continued reading. There was still time until she had to go back to the office and maybe, just maybe she had a sudden brilliant idea how to solve her problem after all.   
“Excuse me, Miss, I couldn’t help noticing the book you’re reading. You seem rather enthralled by it and I wondered if you can recommend it.”   
The sun was behind the man smiling down at her; she blinked and shielded her eyes.   
“It is - interesting,” she politely replied and closed the book. Hopefully he didn’t know it; that would be embarrassing given the topic. And if he knew it already, why did he ask for her opinion? He stepped to the side and took a seat on the bench next to her. In that light his hair looked ginger, it was neatly styled, but she had recognised him right away. The same black suit, the same smile that didn’t reach his eyes.   
“So you like books?” He was turned towards her, his posture open and unguarded.   
Poppy forced herself to stay calm. She clutched the book tightly, ready to smack him with it if necessary.   
“They are okay, I guess.”   
“I have to admit, I was drawn in more by you than by your book. You seemed so engrossed in it, I got curious.” Still he showed her a charming smile and focused his whole attention on her. It made her uncomfortable.   
“Oh.” She slipped into her wide-eyed, naive persona, dropping her gaze and blushing even further.   
“Do you have a name, Miss Booklover?”   
The nickname, despite being accurate, didn’t sit well with her.   
“K-Kitty,” she replied. Where the heck did that name come from?  
“Kitty. What a cute name. So fitting for a cute girl like you. Do you live around here?” He rested an elbow on his knee and leaned a bit closer.   
“No, I work here.” How the heck could she get away without making him suspicious?   
“You do? Where exactly?”   
Poppy pointed into the opposite direction of her office. “I’m an accountant at PJ & partners.”   
“Is that so? Sounds fascinating.” No hint of sarcasm in his voice he smiled even wider.   
“Thanks. And I have to go back to work now…”   
“Ah, yes of course. Would you give me your number? I would like to continue this conversation. Over dinner maybe?”   
Poppy’s heart raced. “I don’t even have my phone…”   
“Do you have something to write?” How could he look so innocent and eager? So fully without an agenda? If Tora hadn’t told her in the very beginning that this guy was trouble, she might have fallen for this act. She reached into her pocket and grabbed an old note.   
“I don’t have a pen,” she said but he beamed at her.   
“No problem, I got one.” He leaned in and scribbled a number on the piece of paper, only pausing halfway through to unfold the note fully.   
A tiny chuckle sounded from him, he finished writing and handed the paper back.   
“I think our meeting today was fate,” he declared, his grin now getting creepier.   
“I don’t believe in fate,” Poppy replied and crammed the note back into her pocket before she jumped up and rushed towards a random office building, planning to hide until she could be sure he was gone.


	6. Im/Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scharch is waiting for a call, Poppy is waiting for an answer to her problem and Tora isn't waiting at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weekends are the worst, writing-wise. Real life is always more important but fudge! I just want to write.

“You fucking idiot! You are completely useless, a waste of space!” Scharch spat on the floor, right next to T-Bones feet.   
“But - I found the cabby who took that jerk and that chick back,” T-Bone mumbled, head hanging so he wouldn’t accidentally make eye contact with a raging Scharch.  
“AND I FOUND THE CHICK!” Scharch slammed an ashtray on the floor, it shattered into tiny, multicolored glass pieces.   
“But - that’s good, isn’t it?” T-Bone pushed some shards away with his foot, still not looking up.   
“It is,” Scharch agreed, his voice tense. He ran both hands over his hair and smoothed it down. “But it was not my fucking job to find her! It was yours!” The next thing hitting the floor was a chair, toppled over by a firm kick.   
“So, uh, what should I do now?”   
“You get some other guys and keep an eye on her. Find out everything you can. Her name’s Kitty, she’s an accountant at PJ something. I want to know where she lives, what she eats, I want to know her connection to that Lam guy.” He needed some time to plan his next moves; until then he would find out everything about his target he could. Was she afraid of heights? Spiders? The dark? Anything he could use against her, to make her suffer emotionally before he made her suffer physically.   
She had stolen his original target from him, had robbed him of his pleasure and breather, the one thing he had been looking forward to. She deserved to suffer.   
On the other hand, Scharch wanted to drag this out. Maybe she would call him - who was he fooling? She would definitely call him. A girl like her, Plain Jane with braided hair and a book, didn’t get much attention from men like him. Probably not much attention at all.   
Scharch imagined her staring at his number, finger hovering over the call button, heart pounding at the idea of having dinner with him. How her round brown eyes would stare at the screen while she did her best to gather the courage to call him.   
Now that he knew where she worked he could just pop up unexpectedly if she didn’t find that courage. He would woo her, make her feel special, make her fall for him until she would follow him anywhere - even into his special playroom. So the build-up was part of his fun now and he would enjoy every second of it. 

Poppy didn’t enjoy this at all. This nagging restlessness, the anxiety that only increased with every passing second. She stared at the number scribbled on the note, just above the flower print on the bottom. From there her gaze flitted to her phone. She should call him. She WANTED to call him.  
But she couldn’t. Tora had told her there was no need for them to stay in touch and she didn’t want to trouble him.   
But the encounter with his coworker had shaken her; the memories of her adventure in Ares Street were still fresh, the image of blood on Ben’s face and the indifference on the faces of those who had done that. Tora had been right; it wasn’t a place she should go to, especially not alone.  
Now it looked as if Ares Street had come for her, though. What should she do? What COULD she do?   
The small box with her most precious belongings sat on the shelf where she had left it, almost empty but for Tora’s ring and bracelet. And the note. ‘Be safe’, he had written. Poppy liked to think it was because he actually cared for her. And yet he just vanished, no texts, no calls, no visits. Just like he had said. But he cared.   
With a sigh she rested her head on her arms, vowing to be more careful from now on. No more walking around town alone after dark, no more recklessly running off to follow some stupid spur of the moment ideas. She would be observant, level-headed and cautious. No big deal, right?

This was a big deal. And Tora had to make sure it went off without a hitch. He followed Shing Ma around, face his usual expressionless mask. He was just there to make sure Shing made it back from that business meeting without anyone trying to bash his head in. Tora was a bodyguard after all, just not only a bodyguard. But his presence alone often was enough to make negotiations more peaceful. Or at least to cut fights short. No one could keep fighting forever when their face got slammed into a wall.   
People always thought he was a brainless brute, though. Barely anyone realized he actually paid attention and remembered most of the shit they were discussing. One of these days he hopefully was in a position to use what he had learned so far, although he didn’t know for what and why yet.   
“Gentlemen, if there are no questions left, I’ll take my leave,” Shing just said and Tora nipped every protest in the bud by squaring his shoulders and darkening his scowl.   
“Nothing? Good. I expect the money in three days. Until then, have a good day.”   
Shing was a fucking gentleman, a rare kind that Tora actually respected. So he followed him oueh car where Tora slid behind the wheel while Shing Ma sat in the back.   
It wasn’t fun. This car was too heavy, not fast enough, not loud enough.   
Tora dropped Shing off at the headquarters and hit the bar. Gyu poured him a juice, eyes flitting to the group of Balthuman thugs occupying a table in the back.   
“What’s with the racket?” The juice sloshed in the glass as Tora turned and eyed the guys darkly.   
“Scharch got some guys together to help him find a chick.” Gyu kept polishing glasses; at this time of the day the bar wasn’t too crowded.   
“A chick? Like, any chick?” That didn’t sound like Scharch.   
“No, a special one. Maybe he met one and fell for her and now he wants to marry her so she can have his kids.” Gyu chuckled as Tora raised an eyebrow.   
“Yeah, sure. What about that chick? Would she want that, too?”   
“Probably not. Scharch is a psycho,” Gyu agreed and threw the towel over his shoulder. “Name’s Kitty, she’s an accountant in the city.”   
“Kitty? Maybe he should start lookin’ for her in the strip clubs. Definitely a stripper name.” Like that Candy chick.   
“Kinda hope he won’t find her. Scharch looking for ya? Bad news,” he added and downed his drink.   
“Are you off to see Quincey?” Gyu took the glass away and wiped the counter.  
“Nah, the princess is busy today. Gonna hit the gym instead. ‘s been too long already.” Tora glared one last time towards the group of underlings and scoffed. Partying instead of following orders. Fuckers.   
It wasn’t his business, though. Vince had plans for him and he didn’t give a single fuck about Scharch and his sick games.   
“See ya.” Gyu waved and grinned.   
Tora only grunted in response. He didn’t give a fuck about anything anymore.


	7. Gotcha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan.

Three days. She hadn’t called him in three days. Scharch was fuming. What the fuck was she thinking? He had been charming as hell, she had blushed and been all fidgety. Everything had gone according to plan, and now she didn’t call? Fuck this shy cunt!  
He would have to take action. His guys haven’t found her yet and he couldn’t just lurk around that area he had met her in all the time. Fuck, he should have taken a picture of her, that would have made it easier.  
“My IT guy checked that company; they have no ties to that Lam guy,” T-Bone just informed him.  
“So what?” Scharch scoffed, his nerves were blank already, even without this idiot blabbering on and on.  
“Just sayin’, what if she’s the wrong chick?”  
Scharch glared at the stupid underling in front of him. “Let me repeat: so what?” At this point it wasn’t even about revenge for stealing his victim, it was about her ignoring Scharch. How dare she?  
“Uh, nothing, boss,” T-Bone quickly backpedaled. No need to poke the bear.  
“She had the same stupid flowers on the notepad, I saw her with him before, that’s a bit too much to be coincidence, don’t you think? No, it’s her, and even if not, I’m pissed. So get out there and find her!”  
If they didn’t find her today, he would spend all day tomorrow in that area until she showed up to either work or lunch break. She wouldn’t get away, just like that old fucker did. 

The roar of the engine traveled through Tora’s whole body as he slammed the pedal down. Fuck it all. He couldn’t sleep properly, couldn’t work out without thinking of her, couldn’t beat someone up in cold blood. This was all he had left, the rush of adrenaline as he sped through Narin City in the middle of the night. Both hands on the wheel he allowed his shoulders to relax as his eyes stayed on the road.  
Much better already. Quincey’s car was a piece of art. So raw, fast and loud, just as Tora liked it. He revved the engine and raced down another empty street. This was what he needed, a good distraction, something to take his mind off of a certain hamster.  
He shifted gears and slowed down to turn at an intersection before stepping on the gas again. Ares Street was far away, even further from his mind, as buildings and street lights flew by. He turned on the radio, let the music shout at him on high volume, fingers tapping the wheel as the beat filled his mind.  
A quick glance from the street to the actual neighborhood made his chest clench. Dammit. Without paying attention he wound up close to her home. His good mood plummeted immediately.  
Well, since he was here already he could just as well drive past her house and check if she was still awake. It was late after all.  
Her window was dark, though, and after staring up there for a few minutes Tora turned on the engine once more and left, driving around some more before he went back home. 

After another night of tossing and turning Poppy got to work early. She was grumpy and tired, easily distracted as she still hit a wall with her search for Noyouko. She doodled on some random piece of paper, her chin propped up in her free hand.  
“Hey Pops, what’s wrong?” Erdene set a coffee mug down in front of Poppy who only blew a strand of hair away from her eyes. There was a cute tiger drawing on the paper in front of her, surrounded by flowers and koi.  
“Nothing. Just - feeling anxious.” Knowing that the creepy guy who tried to kidnap Mr. Lam was still out there didn’t help.  
“You know what you need? A nice walk in the park. Go out there and soak up some sun, get some fresh air. Maybe get some ice cream or cake as a treat.”  
“Maybe you should go for a run, though,” Jacob piped up. “Helps me to clear my mind every single time.”  
“I don’t have running shoes here,” Poppy pointed out. And she couldn’t go for a run when she got home, it was too dark by then and the neighborhood not exactly the safest. “But a walk sounds good. Or even better, I go and get all of us some ice cream.” Poppy grabbed her phone and some money and bounced out of the door.  
“Well, at least ice cream still seems to cheer her up,” Erdene remarked and went back to her desk.  
“I still think starting to work out would help her more,” Jacob offhandedly replied but ducked his head when Erdene glared at him. 

The weather was beautiful, blue skies and just some fluffy clouds here and there. In broad daylight she felt much safer, the sun soothed her anxiety to a bearable level.  
The ice cream parlor was just around the corner and Poppy knew the favorite flavors of her coworkers by heart.  
She realized she had forgotten her bag in the office, so she had to juggle her phone and three ice cream cones in both hands. With a sheepish smile and some dumb luck she managed to open the door and leave without dropping anything. Occupied like that she didn’t check her surroundings so she jumped and nearly let go of everything in her hands when someone talked to her all of sudden.  
“Ice cream? Well, not a dinner, but better than nothing.”  
Her eyes widened as she recognized the ginger hair, the black suit and the smug grin.  
“Oh, it’s you.”  
“Yes, it’s me. Surprised?” Scharch reached out and took one cone from her, tried the ice cream and made a face. “Strawberry. I hate strawberry.” He simply tossed it aside, not even looking where it landed.  
“Uh, sorry, I have to go back-” Slowly inching away from him Poppy yelped when an arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place.  
“Hm, I don’t think so. You see, I was waiting for you to call me and I am not exactly a patient man. So this time you won’t just run off and get away. We are going to have dinner, just like I said we would.”  
Poppy squirmed, the ice cream dropped to the ground where it hit the pavement and melted into a puddle.  
“I - I never agreed to this dinner,” she hissed just before a hand covered her mouth, making breathing almost impossible.  
“This isn’t an invitation,” Scharch snarled and leaned in closer, a grin on his face at the panic on Poppy’s face. “This is an order. You are coming with me, Kitty, and maybe, just maybe I will go easy on you.”  
The chuckle sounded next to her ear and the mad grin on the face in front of her told Poppy this was an empty promise. She got dragged into a car, blindfolded, gagged and hands tied in front of her, and shoved into the trunk.  
Her hands were still sticky and smelled like strawberry ice cream.


	8. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scharch is a sadistic asshole. That's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing this and I most of all enjoy reading all of your comments. It's so much more fun posting fics when there's actual feedback. Thank you!

Poppy lost track of time. She had no idea how long they were driving around or where they were heading to. She could only hear the engine and muffled voices, the traffic outside. The panicked racing of her own heart, thumping against her ribs.   
She had to keep a cool head, or she was in some deep trouble. Somehow she managed to push the blindfold up with her thumbs. Grateful that they had simply tied her wrists in front of her and not behind her back Poppy squirmed and wriggled until she was on her back. For once being small came in handy. Now to the tricky part. She had to be quick, not knowing when the car would stop and they would come to get her. Her hands were sticky and sweaty and it was hard to slide them into her bra where she had stashed her phone earlier. Who would have known that forgetting her bag would save her now. Hopefully.   
She couldn’t take off the gag, though, it was tied behind her head and so tight that it cut into the corners of her mouth.   
Finally she had a good grip on her phone and pulled it out of her bra only to quickly scroll through her contacts. She dialed Tora’s number, praying he would answer. Mailbox. She cursed inwardly, tears already gathering in her eyes.   
The car stopped. Poppy managed some muffled screams before she turned off the ringtone and tucked her phone back into her bra. She tugged the blindfold back in place and curled up on her side, telling herself over and over not to panic.   
She could hear the trunk lid getting opened, some fresh air streamed in and the background noises weren’t that muffled anymore.   
“Now, Miss Kitty-Cat, we have arrived. Let’s get you out of there and show you the dining room.” Scharch chuckled and Poppy flinched when hands grabbed her to hoist her up. She didn’t put up a fight but didn’t make it easy for them, either. She stayed as passive as possible without them dropping her or banging her head against the lid.   
“Boss, can’t we take the blindfold off her now?” T-Bone asked ocne Poppy was back on her feet. “Don’t wanna drag her up the stairs like this.”   
Instead of answering Scharch ripped the blindfold off her, the sudden light making Poppy squint.   
“Shhhh, Kitty, don’t cry,” he cooed and wiped some tears from her cheeks. He would give her many reasons to cry later. To beg, to whine, to negotiate. He was looking forward to it. 

Tora added some more weights and repeated the exercise once more. His muscles were trembling, sweat covered his body as he finished the set and dropped the weights.   
Push-ups, pull-ups, maybe some cardio later. After an hour or so he usually reached some zen state, his body working while his mind just floated. Today he just couldn’t stop thinking. Vince’s orders, Quincey's not so subtle questions about Poppy, all the anger and frustration he felt of late. With a grunt he dropped to the floor for some punishment push-ups. This was his life, it was all he was and all he got. No way to change it.  
But she… she deserved a life in peace. Nothing should ever be allowed to dim her smile.   
“Fuck,” he hissed and plopped down on the mat. His arms felt like jello, muscles burning and skin damp.   
His phone buzzed, but he gritted his teeth and pushed up again. And again. He wouldn’t leave before he had gotten rid of these thoughts haunting him. 

The room was dark until Scharch hit a switch and fluorescent lights flickered to life. Poppy’s breath sped up; everything reminded her of some shady back alley surgeon’s office. A desk with two chairs, an examination table, some trays with different tools she didn’t want to look at.   
“Welcome to my little safe haven. Well, safe for me, not for you.” He chuckled; the sound sent a chill down Poppy’s spine. There were dark stains on the concrete floor, some spatters on the walls. Her stomach churned.   
“I promised you dinner, but to be honest, I will be the only one eating.” On his sign Poppy got pushed towards a chair, rough hands forced her down until she sat, her back straight and her chin held high. She wouldn’t cry and she wouldn’t beg. She still had a chance as long as they didn’t find her phone.   
“T-Bone, go and get my dinner. I will stay here and chat a bit with my - guest.”   
The man behind Poppy grumbled something but left.   
“Finally alone. I was hoping for some private time with you,” Scharch urred and stepped closer, his fingertips brushing strands of hair from Poppy’s face. She did everything to not flinch at his touch, instead she glared at him, making him laugh at her defiance.   
“Don’t worry, sweetie, I will tell you exactly what I have planned for you.” His hand wound into her hair, he tugged firmly before he yanked her head back so she had to look at him. “First of all I’m going to make it a bit less comfortable here for you. Just so you can start wondering how you deserve all of this. And while I have my dinner, you can stew in the uncertainty.” He let go of her and walked towards the wall where he grabbed a rope from a hook, still casually talking to her.  
“You know, I’m a simple man. I work hard. And I’m fucking great at my job. But sometimes I need some time to blow off some steam and you, sweetie, you ruined that the last time for me. It’s only fair I get to kill you for that, don’t you think?”   
A hook got lowered, Poppy looked up to see it dangling just slightly next to her. Once again Scharch grabbed her hair and dragged her up, to her feet. He connected the hook to the bindings around her wrists, secured it and grinned.   
“How long do you think you can stand on your tiptoes? As long as I need for my meal?” With that he went back to the other end of the rope and pulled. Poppy’s arms got ripped above her head, the rope pulled taut until she was stretched out as far as possible without her feet actually losing contact to the floor.   
T-Bone came back with a tray. Poppy slowly spun on the tip of her toes, unable to stop the motion with that little control over her own body. Her shoulders were already protesting, her legs trembling.   
“Now, let’s see what’s for dinner, shall we?”   
Poppy almost cried when she saw a multitude of dishes on the tray. This would take forever for him to eat. Her breathing was shallow, the gag didn’t help, but she tried to swallow her panic and the pain. She could make them her weapon. Letting the anger build and unleash it once she had the chance to. If she got that chance.   
“Itadakimasu,” Scharch said and grabbed his chopsticks. His eyes never left her during his whole meal.   
When he put the chopsticks down and pushed the plates and bowls away Poppy was drenched in sweat. Her whole body was on fire, again and again she slipped and briefly dangled from her arms until she got her footing back.   
“Much better already,” Scharch sighed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “And now for dessert.” His chair scraped over the floor as he got up and walked around Poppy, examining her from every angle. He clapped his hands, startling her into slipping again.   
“I’ve decided. First, there will just be some superficial pain. A few cuts, maybe some hits. When you act up I will break a finger or two, kneecaps in case you are really sassy. And after that first round, I will listen to you begging for your life.” He snickered and walked away from her. “But then I will really have my fun with you and in the end of the second round, you will beg me to let you die. And I’m really looking forward to that.”   
Back at the other end of the rope, now tied to a hook at the wall, Scharch hummed a happy little tune as he lowered the rope, causing Poppy to fall to the ground with a thud. Scharch crouched down next to her, grinning madly.   
“Now, Kitty-Cat, where should we begin?”


	9. Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How sick can Scharch be? The answer is: very.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. Poor Poppy. It will get better, I swear.

Tora grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off his face. There was still frustration left, lingering right under the surface, in peaceful coexistence with his ever-present rage. But there was also exhaustion, if not calm. Pushing himself to his limits and beyond at least would allow him to get some sleep, although it wouldn’t be restful. Nothing ever was.   
He needed a shower. And some food. It always made him feel better to eat after a tiring workout. 

The knife glinted in the low light, so close to Poppy’s face it blurred before her eyes.   
“First of all…” Scharch hooked a finger into the gag and pulled it away from her skin, making it tighten painfully on the opposite side of her face. He slipped the knife into the small gap he created and yanked it away from her, cutting the soaked material so it fell to the ground. “Can’t hear you beg with this thing in your mouth,” he whispered, his thumb following the red line the fabric had left on her skin.   
Poppy couldn’t keep her body from trembling, the strain on her muscles paired with her growing panic forced her to shake like a leaf in the wind.   
“Are you afraid?” With both hands cupping her face Scharch smiled at her, examining her face for signs of her fear.   
“It will only hurt in the beginning,” he promised and buried his fingers in her hair to tug harshly. “At some point your body won’t even register the pain anymore. Or so I heard.” Back on his feet he dragged her to the chair where he pushed her to the ground next to.  
Poppy whimpered, everything hurt already, her body was far from switching off the pain.   
“Don’t hold back,” Scharch encouraged her and took a seat. “You can scream and cry as much as you want.” A swift kick to her side drove the air out of her lungs. Poppy crumpled down, stars dancing at the edge of her vision.   
“I told you to scream!” The next kick hit her back and she cried out, a primal sound, foreign to her.   
“Much better. See, if you just do as told, it won’t be too bad.”   
She winced as his hand came to rest on her shoulder, fingers digging into the aching joint. “Hey, you won’t just faint on me now, will you? Because that would definitely spoil my fun.”   
Leaving Poppy there on the floor Scharch stepped closer to one of the trays full of tools. “And I’m just getting started.” His fingers hovered over a selection of pliers; he picked one, opened and closed it a few times and nodded. This would do.   
“Sometimes it’s like pulling teeth when I try to get some answers from certain people,” he started and turned back to face her. “And sometimes, pulling teeth is already the answer. The cracking sound when the tooth breaks out of the jawbone, the screams, the blood - you have no idea how satisfying that is.”   
She inched away from him, crawled as good as she could out of reach but he grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her back.   
“Oh no, you come back here. Looks like I have to remind you who is in charge here.”   
Poppy screwed her eyes shut, whatever happened now, she didn’t want to see it. Or him.   
“Boss!” The door got slammed open and T-Bone rushed in.   
“What?!” Scharch roared, eyes blazing as he glared daggers at his underling.   
“Mr. B. is asking for you. Like, now. Right now.”   
A tirade of colorful curses fell from Scharch’s lips, they stained Poppy’s ears, the last straw before she burst out into tears. Silently sobbing she listened to the short exchange between them, how Scharch instructed T-Bone to keep an eye on her.  
“But don’t touch her, you hear me? She’s my plaything, I don’t want you to damage her. Just keep her from running away - not that she would get far after all.” In passing Scharch leaned down to Poppy, hot breath washing over her tear-stained cheeks.   
“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll be back soon. And then we pick up right where we left off, okay?”   
For a second she feared he would kiss her, but he only slapped her face once. Not hard, but still far from gentle.   
Once the door fell shut behind him Poppy inhaled shakily, surveying the new situation. Scharch was obviously a sicko, but this guy was new and except for his part in her kidnapping she knew nothing about him. Maybe she could negotiate with him. Or melt his heart so he would let her go.   
“Why- why are you doing this?” she whispered, her throat dry and hurting with every word.  
“Oh, shut up! Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you? So much trouble, for what? Now I have to babysit you until the boss is back. I’d rather do something else,” he grumbled.   
Poppy scanned the room. He blocked her way to the door, and there were no windows. Besides, they were on the third or fourth floor if she wasn’t mistaken. She couldn’t just climb out of the window, especially not with her arms and shoulders hurting like that.   
“What is he going to do to me?” Keeping him busy while she made plans and calculated risks in her head Poppy kept asking questions.  
“Kill ya, what else?” T-Bone plopped down on the chair and stared at Poppy who still sat on the floor. “‘s a shame, though. You’re pretty.” He turned further towards her, chuckling as she pulled her legs up and hugged her knees as good as possible with her hands still tied.   
“Can’t believe he doesn’t even plan to rough ya up a little. Just a bit…”  
She felt roughed up enough as it was, but figured he meant something else. So far Scharch hadn’t even expressed any interest in her beyond his sick fixation on pain and torture. He seemed indifferent to her gender, either because he prefered men or because he simply enjoyed inflicting pain and bringing death to basically anyone, no matter of sex, age or looks. The thought was no comfort to Poppy, but she didn’t want to think of the alternative.   
T-Bone, though, showed more interest in other ways of humiliating, of feeling powerful by hurting others, bending them to his will.   
“I guess the boss will be gone for a bit,” he began and reached out to run a hand through her hair. “He said not to hurt you, but we can have some fun anyway, don’t you think?”   
Poppy froze. A hundred possible endings for this scenario flashed through her mind, none of them pleasant in the slightest. She forced her lips into a smile and got on her knees.   
“Sure. I already have a few ideas,” she sweetly replied as she crawled closer.   
“Good girl,” T-Bone grinned. “How about you show me a few?” 

In fresh clothes and with his hair still damp Tora grabbed his phone to order food. The notifications showed him a missed call and he faintly remembered his phone buzzing earlier. The name on his screen surprised him; he hadn’t expected Bobby to call him. Ever since that midnight picnic they hadn’t talked at all.   
She had left a message and he hesitated, hearing her voice would break his resolve. Here he was, trying to keep her out of trouble, and yet she called him.   
Curiosity won over caution, he pressed the button, bracing himself for hearing her sweet, happy voice.   
Only he didn’t. What was that? Did she accidentally call him? Butt-dial it was called, wasn’t it? His brow furrowed, he listened to it carefully, hoping to catch at least a few words from her. There! What was that? Sounded like someone screaming into a few layers of fabric. Or maybe…   
His blood froze in his veins. He rushed to call her back and cursed loudly when he got redirected to her mailbox.   
“This is Poppy, leave a message.”


	10. Fight or flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, your comments give me life, water my plants and clear my skin. Thank you so much. The bulk of the angst is over now, there will be some dark moments later on, but we made it through the worst. Yay!

The car screeched around the corner; Tora didn’t even slow down. Instead he only went faster, urged on by what his imagination came up with. She had been screaming. He was sure it’s exactly what he had heard, and in the background he had recognized the annoying laughter of Scharch.  
He had listened to the message over and over, so close to slamming the phone against the wall.  
Instead he had called Ryu. It had been a short conversation, Tora had only barked a quick order and grabbed his keys, already on the way out.  
He wasn’t sure where he was heading yet, just the general direction was clear. When his phone buzzed again he slowed down just enough to glance at the screen. Gripping the wheel tightly with his other hand he cursed loudly and made a sharp U-turn. Fuck Scharch.  
On his way to one of the buildings the group used frequently he broke a dozen traffic rules, not caring about speed limits and red lights at all. Not that he usually did, at least not at night. But it was only afternoon and the traffic much denser than during his nightly joy or rage rides.  
He didn’t bother finding a proper parking spot; if it wouldn't total the car he would even drive into the foyer, just to save a few seconds. He kept dialing Poppy’s number, mentally willing her to pick up but failing.  
He would kill someone. Anyone who had hurt her, touched her. He would set the whole fucking building on fire, if necessary he would tear the place apart with his bare hands, brick by brick.  
This wasn’t the headquarters, but no one cared when he barged in. Tora, the Tiger of Ares Street, was known well enough in the whole organisation to not get questioned when he set foot into any of their branches. What did earn some suspicious glares though was the way he grabbed the first person in reach at his collar and slammed him into the next wall.  
“Where the fuck is that motherfucker Scharch?!” he bellowed, chest heaving. Like a bull he snorted, ready to impale the next matador who tried to sneak up on him.  
“H-he left a while ago,” the man under his glare stammered. “Mr. Balthuman asked for him.”  
With a low growl Tora let go of the underling and scanned the room.  
“If ya wanna get out of here without any broken bones you better tell me where he brought the girl,” he demanded, a living, walking threat to anyone crossing him. 

Poppy swallowed thickly. Her throat hurt and her mouth was dry. The smile felt strange, cutting her face in half. Too wide, too shaky, too desperately seducing. Not that he seemed to notice. To T-Bone’s defense, he was rather distracted by the way she pressed one knee on the seat, just between his legs, her bound hands resting on his chest. He had the perfect view, her shirt gaping at the front as she leaned in so he could see the edge of her bra and the full curve of her breasts.  
“Oh yeah, baby, that’s how I like it…” he groaned as Poppy’s knee slipped higher a few inches.  
Her heart thundered in her chest. She was going to do it. She would do anything she had to only to make it out of there alive. She only had to close her eyes and wait until it was over. No big deal.  
No big deal.  
She could do it.  
No big deal.  
“Hey,” she softly mumbled, getting his attention so he looked up.  
No big deal.  
Poppy closed her eyes. 

Five floors, most of them with several smaller rooms. Storage rooms, offices, some used for shady deals and criminal activities - well, most of them were. But they were too many to check one by one and Ryu had only been able to point out the address. The GPS of Poppy’s phone only allowed for this much accuracy.  
Tora ripped open the next door, scanned the empty room and rushed to the next. 

She could hear the sharp intake of breath T-Bone took and braced herself. Yanked her head back and slammed it forwards, her forehead connecting with his face. Pain exploded behind her eyes, sharp and sudden. The sound of cartilage breaking, his scream, the smell of the blood gushing from his nose brought her back into the present; she braced her hands on his shoulder as she pulled her knee back and brought it forward with force, driving it into his groin.  
Mor screams. Poppy scrambled backwards, towards one of the trays with tools and instruments. She grabbed the first she could get hold of and swung it against T-Bone’s head. A good, heavy pipe wrench. After a dull thud T-Bone stopped screaming. He slumped down in his seat, head lolling to the side. Blood dribbled from his temple; Poppy dropped the wrench as if it was magma. Her breathing was shallow and fast, her eyes flitted around the room until she spotted a knife.  
Moving was much easier without the ties. Armed with a screwdriver she got to work. She didn’t have much time. 

His phone rang, making his heart skip a beat.  
“Bobby?! Where the hell are ya?” Relief, anger and impatience swirled in his mind, but all above still the crushing guilt and panic.  
“I don’t know,” she whimpered. “They - some of your coworkers, they took me to this place and I don’t know how to get out.” Despite her whispering her voice echoed slightly.  
“Calm down, sweetheart, I’m almost there. Can ya tell me anything about the place you’re in? Anything helps.” He looked around, over his shoulder and back forwards. What if he had already missed her?  
“I - they took me upstairs. Three, maybe four floors, I’m not sure. The room is - oh god, it’s so scary. There are hooks dangling from the ceiling and - it’s like a slaughterhouse.” Her voice reached a pitch he had never heard from her before. Panicked, shrill.  
“‘s okay, sweetheart, I’ll come and get ya. Just sit tight and think of something nice. How ‘bout the night sky over Narin City?” He spotted the stairs, taking two steps at once he only stopped on the third floor. The hallway was empty and dark here. Only a handful of doors, probably a storage area.  
“I - I think I killed him,” she sobbed.  
Who? Scharch? That would be quite a feat, and probably cause a lot of problems considering his position in the organisation, but Tora couldn’t help his grim pride at the thought of that sicko slain by his feisty hamster.  
“Don’t think about that now, Bobby. Nice thoughts, ya hear me? I’m almost there,” he assured her, rushing down the hallway and checking every single door. Nothing. Back to the stairs and onto the next floor.  
“There was so much blood…” she whispered and he could picture her, eyes wide and face pale. Shit, why couldn't he just find her already?  
The fourth floor was like the third. Dark, empty, a row of doors. He slammed the first open. Clear.  
“People can lose loads of blood before it gets critical,” he let her know, panting slightly at the physical strain. Next door. Locked.  
He stepped back, took a few deep breaths before he kicked the door open, putting all his fury into it. The room behind it was dark, no sign of hooks. Next one.  
She was crying openly, not even forming words anymore. It broke his heart and spurred him on even further. 

Poppy crouched in her hiding spot, hand pressed on her mouth to muffle her sobs. Over the phone she could hear him searching for her. Tora would come and rescue her, she wouldn’t die here today.  
But part of her had died already; she had attacked someone, without hesitation and with the clear intent of killing him. She was a monster and nothing could change this.  
Her whole body ached, being crammed into this hole didn’t help. But here no one would be able to spot her, as long as she stayed quiet.  
“Nice thoughts, ya hear me? I’m almost there,” he just instructed her and Poppy breathed as deeply as she could, summoning images of the beach and happy days in the sun. It only lasted for a second before puddles of blood appeared on the fine white sand.  
“There was so much blood,” she whimpered, unable to forget about the sight of T-Bone’s bloody face.  
“People can lose loads of blood before it gets critical,” she heard Tora after a moment. She wanted to laugh, this comment so very much like him, but all she could do was cry, curled up in a ball, surrounded by sheet metal.

Sweat ran down the back of his neck, there were still a couple of doors left. This one was unlocked and he slammed it open only to find a bloody mess. Used to the sight of gore he didn’t even bat an eye, it wasn’t Bobby on this chair after all.  
“Sweetheart? Are ya here?” he called and let his phone sink, but didn’t end the call. Slowly, silently he moved through the room, only checked the body to find him still alive, but out cold. Good.  
“Poppy? C’mon, gimme a sign. I’m gonna get ya out of here.” He cocked his head to the side, straining his ears for an answer. He heard the sobs before the sounds from the vents. As if something was crawling through the ventilation shaft.  
“T-tora?” a feebly voice called out for him.  
“I’m here, sweetheart.” Slipping his phone into his pocket he took a few strides through the room, towards the wall with the vent cover, just at the height of his knees. Two screws were loose; he only noticed it because he knew what to look for. Smart hamster. He lifted the cover and peered into the duct.  
“Thank fuckin’ god, I found ya,” he exhaled as he saw her face, scared and dirty. Dust and grime as well as splotches of blood and tears couldn’t hide the relief flashing over her face.  
“Ya gotta come over here, sweetheart, I ain’t small enough to come and get ya,” he chuckled, the weight of the world falling from his shoulder as he saw her tentative smile. He could barely fit his head in there, let alone his shoulders. It was a tight fit for Poppy, too, and for a second the memories of being locked up in the sewers, the only light coming from the manhole covers, made Tora dizzy. But this wasn’t the time to be weak, he had to be strong for her.  
“Is- is he gone?” she asked, slowly unfurling and shimmying towards him.  
“Haven’t seen him around at least. And even if, he’s never gonna put a finger on ya again, I swear.”  
With her feet first Poppy crawled out of the duct, jerked when she felt his hands curling around her ankles.  
“‘s just me, don’t worry. I’m gonna help ya, okay?”  
She inhaled deeply and hummed a weak ‘uh-huh’, giving up resistance as he carefully pulled until her knees could touch the floor and she could finally slide out only to slump down on the dirty concrete.  
He reached for her hands but she winced and shook her head. So he waited until she pulled herself up.  
“Sweetheart, I’m - this-” She looked miserable. Broken. Only the glint in her eyes was the same.  
“I want to go home. Please, can you take me home?” She squeaked when he reached for her, one arm around her waist, the other sliding under her legs as he hoisted her up and carried her towards the door.  
“What about T-Bag?” she asked, pointedly not looking into the direction of the man on the chair.  
“Who?” Tora grumbled and readjusted his grip on her.  
“The - the guy over there.” Eyes closed Poppy waved a hand. “Is he - did I-?”  
“Still breathin’,” Tora curtly growled. “Did he touch ya?”  
“Does it matter?” she asked back, resting her head against his chest. She was so tired. A thought made her head shoot up again. “Oh god, Erdene! And Jacob! They must be worried out of their minds by now.”  
Poppy had no idea what time it was, but her lunch break was over for ages for sure.  
“We’ll call them as soon as I know you’re safe,” Tora promised and stared at the guy. T-Bag, huh? He would come back for him later, but for now Poppy had priority. She looked as if she needed a doctor. And Tora just knew the right man for that job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know you all will thirst for revenge. Don't worry, Scharch won't get away unscathed, I have a plan and all. But it needs a bit of preparation, which will mostly take place in the next chapter. I'm also proud of Poppy for not being a damsel in distress but fighting on her own. You go girl! So next is revenge and fluff, fluff and fluff. Stay tuned!


	11. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora makes sure Poppy gets the medical attention she needs. And so much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it through the angst, here comes the comfort. Thanks for sticking with me through the tough parts. Don't worry, we will get our revenge, but right now Poppy needs someone taking care of her. The killing can come later 😅

Poppy couldn’t tell her friends she had been kidnapped of course, they would ask questions and insist to involve the police. But she could tell them she had slipped and fallen only to hit her head and lose consciousness. Yes, she was in medical care now. No, they didn’t have to come and see her. She would get discharged by that evening and probably stay at home for another day or two. Yes, she would keep them up to date, but please, no visits. She meant it.   
With a sigh Poppy ended the call and immediately her face fell.   
In Tora’s car they sped through the streets, away from that awful place. She could tell he was seething, the veins on his neck and forehead prominent, his knuckles white from gripping the wheel hard enough to make it creak.   
But he hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t asked anything besides ‘You ok?’, a question she couldn’t answer. Was she? No. Would she ever be okay again? She had no idea. For now she was numb, both the pain in her body and the terror in her heart had left her empty.   
She recognized the building they were stopping at, only this time she saw it in the waning daylight and not the middle of the night.   
He parked the car haphazardly as always and jumped out to rush around and open her door for her. Not that she even tried, her arms were heavy like lead and her shoulders screamed at her at every movement.   
Crouching next to her he peered into her face, golden eyes meeting tired brown ones.   
“Ca ya walk?”   
Poppy shrugged, only to wince at the pain shooting through her.   
“My legs are fine,” she panted, nose scrunched up and brow furrowed. “It’s just my arms.”   
He hummed, slid a hand under her bum and one behind her back to hoist her up again.   
“Hey, I said I can walk,” Poppy protested, but weakly.   
He slammed the door shut with his foot and ignored her, carrying her in his arms to the elevator and from there to Quincey’s door.   
“Oi, princess! Open up!” Tora kicked against the door, his arms still holding Poppy.   
“Oh, honey, do we have a date?” Quincey’s face appeared in the small gap between door and frame, his eyes widening as he saw them. “Oh my goodness, what has happened?!”   
Tora set Poppy down on the couch, careful and slow.   
“Scharch,” he almost spat out. “Ya gonna call your doctor or what?”   
“Yes, yes of course.” Quincey paled even further and grabbed his phone; he had the doctor on speed dial after all.   
“And put on some fuckin’ pants!”   
Poppy was too quiet. Tora wasn’t a doctor but he had seen a lot of people after fights, and if they got all quiet it was always a bad sign.   
“Hey, sweetheart, ya gonna tell me what happened?” Carefully he took her hand in his, cradled it between his, gently running his thumb over her knuckles.   
She didn’t turn her head, kept staring at the wall and sighed. “They - he found me during my lunch break. I recognized him… from that time with Mr. Lam. Someone grabbed me from behind and I - they shoved me in the trunk of a car and took me to that place. I tried to call you and - and…”   
“Ya did great,” he assured her, his thumb moving in circles over her skin. “I - shit, it’s all my fault. I knew they would find ya if I keep hangin’ around…” He dropped his head, low enough for his forehead to touch her hand.   
“No,” she weakly objected. “It wasn’t because of you. He - Scharch, he told me… said I stole his plaything and now I had to take its place. He was referring to Mr. Lam… must have found out that helped him escape from the club back then.” Her hand trembled, he tightened his grip ever so slightly.   
“They didn’t target ya because of me?” His eyes widened, he still had his face pressed against the back of her hand.   
“Yeah, crazy, huh? I mean, how are the odds?” She turned her hand, cupping his face and guiding it back up. “The whole time you left me in the dark ‘to keep me safe’ and then someone comes and kidnaps me and it has nothing to do with you.” No bitterness, no hidden reproach tinged her voice, her big brown eyes open and honest. He had pushed down the rage so he could take care of her, could make sure she was safe, but seeing her like this, quietly accepting what had happened to her, fanned the flames of his anger to white hot fury.   
He would kill Scharch, a slow and gruesome death, even if Vince decided to punish Tora in return.   
“Tora?”   
“Hm?”   
“Bad things happen to good people all the time,” she softly pointed out. “It’s not your fault.”   
He didn’t tell her that usually he was the bad thing that happened to good people. Or just people. 

The doctor came before Tora could obsess over killing Scharch, shooing him off the couch so he could take a look at Poppy. When she told him how exactly she had gotten her injuries Tora jumped up and stalked out. Quincey flashed Poppy a nervous smile and followed him, only to find Toora frantically dragging at a cigarette.   
“Dad will kill you if you lay a hand on Scharch,” Quincey reminded him.   
“I know,” Tora growled and stubbed out the smoke.   
“And when you’re dead, who will drive me around? And even more importantly, who will have an eye on the cutie in there?” With a wave of his hand Quincey referred to Poppy, fully aware she was Tora’s weak spot. “No, booboo, you can’t rush in and beat the life out of that piece of crap.”  
“So what should I do? Just let it go?!” Tora roared. “That fucker had her hanging by her arms for ages! ‘s a miracle the joints are still in place.”   
“I didn’t say we let him off the hook just like that. But you just can’t go and act on your own. You need backup.”   
Tora trembled with rage, he needed an outlet. Someone to punch. Not Quincey, though. Quincey…  
“Fine,” he pressed out between gritted teeth. “Ya gonna be my backup?”   
Quincey sighed and raised his clasped hands to his heart. “Oh, booboo, I thought you’d never ask!”   
Tora groaned and rolled his eyes. “Knock it off already, will ya? I’m gonna check in on Bobby now. ‘s it okay if we stay here tonight? Not sure how safe her place is, with Scharch snooping around.” And he couldn’t take her to his apartment. But here she would be safe, not even Scharch was crazy enough to mess with Quincey.   
“Sure, make yourselves at home. But give that poor girl a rest.”   
“This ain’t one of your stories,” Tora snapped and stalked back into the living room, followed by a grinning Quincey. 

Poppy’s mind was floating. Whatever the doctor had given her, it was fabulous. The tension and pain just melted away, replaced by the feeling of cotton candy in her brain. It was - nice.   
“You can cool the affected areas, so the shoulders and the forehead, but otherwise all she needs is some rest,” she heard the doctor say but wasn’t sure to whom he was talking to. Did it even matter?   
“Thank you, Doctor Mack, you have been a big help, as usual.” There was a certain sweetness to that voice, under all the excitement it conveyed.  
“I’ll send you the bill,” the doctor replied, sounding tired. Poppy giggled. Tired. What a funny word. Tiiiiiii-red. Why was there an ‘r’ when you couldn’t even hear it? Arrrrrrr… like a pirate. In pirate you could hear the ‘r’. Funny.   
“Hey, sweetheart, how ya doin’?” Someone was talking to her. What a nice voice he had. All smooth and husky…   
Poppy sighed. “Fine. Fine, fine, fiiiiiiiiiineeee…” With a dopey grin she opened her eyes. Whoa, was the world always spinning so fast?   
“Holy shit, what did the doctor give ya? Horse tranquilizers?” But he chuckled, a nice sound. Nice, nice, nice. Funny word.   
“Sweetheart, you gotta drink somethin’. Lemme get ya some water.” He moved and Poppy reached out.  
“Noooo,” she whined. “Don’t go awayyyyyyyy…”   
“Don’t worry, I get her something,” the nervous voice said. Who was he again?  
“Thanks, Quinceton.” Golden eyes peered at her, she blinked and stared back. Tora. The Tiger. She liked tigers. They were just big cats. Kitty cat. What had called her that again?  
“Tooooooraaaaaaa~,” she cooed and giggled again. Why was everything so fudging funny? Fudge. Hehe.   
“Yeah?” His hand came to rest on her forehead and she winced lightly.   
“Ya got quite an impressive goose egg there,” he stated and drew a circle on her skin where it didn’t hurt anymore. “Might help ya with your story of fallin’ and hittin’ your head.”   
Did she fall? She couldn’t remember. But she felt icky. Sweaty.   
“I wanna…” she slurred and giggled again. “I want to take a shower.” She pushed herself up, or at least she thought she did. But she didn't move. Strange.   
“Need help?” Tora slid a hand under her back and pulled her up, careful not to touch her arms or shoulders.   
“Here’s the water.” Quinceton, Tora had called him. Poppy focused. He was familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she had seen him before.   
The water was good. It cooled her throat and cleared her head a bit. She spilled some on her shirt, absentmindedly wiped over the front of it.   
“Shower?” she asked again.   
“Uh, sorry, Bobby, but ya can’t even stand on your own, so that’s a no.” He took the glass from her and looked at Quinceton.   
“Maybe a bath?” he suggested.   
“So she can drown in there? She’s like some cooked noodle, no body tension,” Tora grumbled. Why was he angry? Was it her fault?   
“But,” she began, her bottom lip trembling, “I feel gross. I can still smell the blood on me,” she whispered, the fog in her mind slowly vanishing.   
“Fuck,” he cursed and hung his head. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Just gimme a sec to think about it.”   
“Well, as long as you are thinking, I’m off to get her some fresh clothes. She can’t stay in that,” Quinceton pointed out. “I’ll look for an old t-shirt she can wear while I’m out.” With that he left but Poppy’s head was too heavy to follow him with her eyes.   
“‘kay, how ‘bout this? I hold ya up under the shower?” Tora dropped his gaze to the floor.   
“As long as I get clean, I don’t care,” she agreed, already trying to stand up. Epic fail.   
“Or,” he sighed and scooped her up in his arms, “I’ll put ya in the tub and just let some water run over ya.”   
Poppy giggled again and buried her face in his chest. “Will you water me like I water my plants?”   
In the bathroom Poppy squealed as he set her down in the empty tub. She reached for the hem of her shirt and whined.   
“I can’t take it ooooooff…”   
He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, already kneeling next to the tub. “Yeah, maybe ya should keep it on.”   
Poppy gasped, her eyes wide. “Showering IN MY CLOTHES? That’s just like getting wet in the rain!”   
“Can ya even raise your arms?” he dryly asked, one eyebrow cocked at her.   
“But but - I can’t just keep it on!” That was just wrong.   
Tora cursed lowly and jumped on his feet, went to some bathroom cabinet and came back with a pair of scissors. “Hold still.”  
Before she could protest - her mind was still lagging behind after all - he had cut her shirt open and pulled it off her, leaving her in her bra.   
“Skirt, too?” He snipped into the air, grinning widely.   
“I’m good,” she rushed to assure him, relieved when he set the scissors down. Instead he grabbed the showerhead and turned the water on, testing the temperature before he let it run over her legs. “Okay?”  
Poppy nodded and scooped some water into her hands to wash her face.   
“Ya wanna wash your hair?”   
Again she nodded, closed her eyes and tipped her head back so he could direct the shower at her hair.   
“No clue where the princess gets all this shit, but I guess it will work,” Tora mumbled and reached for the first bottle of shampoo he could find. He lathered up a small amount between his hands and gently rubbed it into Poppy’s hair before he rinsed it again.   
“I - I was really scared,” she suddenly mumbled, eyes still closed. “I thought: ‘What if Tora won’t come? What if he’s mad at me? What if I die here today?’”   
“‘Course I’d come if ya need me.” He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, threw it over her head and squeezed some of the water out of her hair. “Couldn’t be mad at ya even if I tried.”   
The shower helped, not only to get her clean but also to sober up. At least the meds numbed the pain in her arms and shoulders, but being this foggy wasn’t enjoyable. Now she only was tired. And cold. She shivered, like a drowned rat in her wet bra, skirt and panties. In front of Tora.   
A quick check showed her that her bra at least wasn’t see-through.   
“Can - can you turn around for a bit? I’ll take off the rest of my clothes,” she sheepishly whispered, cheeks flaming up.   
“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before,” he coolly stated and laughed when she glared at him. “Fine. Gonna get ya a robe or something.” He turned and rummaged through some drawers while Poppy peeled her clothes off and covered with the towel he had used to dry her hair. It took forever, her hands and fingers didn’t work as she wanted them to. They shouldn’t be shaking that much, for example. That mindless giddiness had vanished, leaving her with a crushing exhaustion.   
“You can look now.” 

He wasn’t prepared for this. How could she look like that, like the fucking Venus, floating in on a huge ass seashell? He cleared his throat and handed her the robe he had found.   
“Put that on and I’ll help ya out.”   
This day was a huge clusterfuck. And he still couldn’t just go and ram Scharch into the ground like some fucking post for a mailbox or some shit.  
He waited until she called for him again before he crouched down next to the tub again. Her tiny yelp as he hoisted her up brightened his mood a bit. Not much, just from bloodthirsty to seething.   
“Feelin’ better now?” he asked as he carried her back into the empty living room. No t-shirt.  
He took her to the spare bedroom where he found a shirt and a bottle of water on the nightstand. “Looks like ya gonna sleep here, sweetheart. Need anything else?”   
“Can - can you stay with me?”   
Fuck those puppy eyes! He inhaled deeply. Remembered how he had felt the first time he got into some really deep shit.   
“Sure. At least until ya fall asleep.” He gave her some privacy as she changed into the shirt, at least it was a button down so she didn’t have to pull it over her head. He doubted she could even lift her arms. Once she was in bed he sat down on a chair next to it.  
“Will you - will you kill them?” she asked into the silent room.   
Fuck yeah, at least he would try.   
“Why? You wanna do it?” he asked, laying thick on the teasing.   
“I don’t want them to die at all,” she pointed out, voice blank. “I just want them to stay away from me.”   
As if Scharch would let go of a victim once he had found one. Tora sighed.   
“Yeah, ‘bout that… the princess had a good idea for once. Should get them off your back. and if not…” He shrugged and stretched his legs out.   
“Tora?” Sleep already tugged at her, slurred her words.   
“Hm?”   
“Can you hold my hand?”   
Brave little hamster. If that was all she needed he’d gladly comply. Tora scooted closer and reached for her hand. Her fingers were still trembling. Fuck that Scharch. And fuck Vince, too. He’d kill both of them if necessary.   
“Would you - lay down with me?” Her pleading eyes would be the end of him one day. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index and middle finger.   
“I’m not exactly a cuddler,” he admitted but got up when her face fell. “Scoot over.”   
He stayed over the blanket, though, and simply laid down next to her.   
“You can watch TV if you want,” Poppy offered. “I actually think I’d appreciate the light. Not sure if I can sleep in the dark tonight.” She yawned and snuggled closer, threw one arm over his waist and pressed her face against his chest.   
“Yeah, I know that problem,” he muttered and wrapped an arm around her, careful not to put any weight on her shoulder. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll look after ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Poppy high on pain meds was so much fun. I've never been high (except for on emotion 😅) but I guess it makes you think and do funny things.


	12. Morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after her kidnapping Poppy wakes up in a strange bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one is a bit short, but weekends are my busy time. Hope you enjoy it, only one more to go!

It was probably the pain meds, but Poppy slept soundly most of the night, only half-woke once or twice for a sip of water before she flopped back down and snuggled into the blanket and the sea of pillows.   
The pale light of the flickering TV fooled her into believing she wasn’t alone, not lost in the dark, scared for her life. Searching for more warmth she turned around once more, sighed lightly and fell back asleep.

It was hell. How the fuck was he supposed to sleep? Tora didn’t dare to move, she was so tiny next to him, what if he accidentally rolled over and crushed her? Or pushed her off the bed during the night? So he stayed awake, zapping through the channels of Quincey’s expensive TV, the volume so low that he could barely hear anything.   
Not that Bobby seemed to mind. She was sleeping like a log, turned every now and then but she didn’t seem to have any nightmares. But she had a huge need for space. His leg was already dangling off the bed and she inched even closer to him. She mumbled something, turned again, the blanket kicked off her. In the light of an action movie on the TV he could clearly see her sleeping face. She sat up, sighed and flopped down again. Her shirt had ridden up and Tora cursed inwardly. This was torture!   
He angled for the blanket to cover her up again but she whined and struggled against it. Dammit, even in her sleep she was stubborn and beyond reason. Every time she moved she reminded him of her lack of panties, with the way the shirt bunched around her hips, barely covering her butt.   
“Tora,” she sighed and buried her face in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck!   
“‘m here, sweetheart,” he whispered and wrapped his arm around her. She would probably turn away from him within the next three minutes anyway.   
“I wanna…”   
He wasn’t sure if the pain meds were the reason for her talking in her sleep or if she did that regularly, but here was a chance to tease her he wouldn’t waste.   
“What do ya want, hm?”   
“Wanna tell you… what I want…”   
Oh, this could be good.  
“‘s fine. Go on, tell me.”   
“What I really, really want,” she mumbled and nuzzled his chest.   
“Yeah?”  
“I wanna... zigazig ah…”   
He snorted, almost throwing her off him with the way his chest shook under his suppressed laughter. Dammit, Bobby!   
“Sleep, sweetheart,” he told her, knowing she would feel like shit tomorrow. He always felt like shit a day after some big job.   
Around midnight, he had just dozed off, too, she shot up, eyes wide.  
Tora immediately jumped up and off the bed, ready to defend them from whatever was threatening them.   
“Gotta buy rice,” she mumbled, staring off into space. “Gotta make rice balls…”   
“Fuck,” he exhaled, heart still racing. He couldn’t even remember when he last shared the bed with someone else, especially for sleeping. Was it always like that?   
“Bobby, go back to sleep. Ya don’t need no rice balls.”   
“Tora likes ‘em,” she insisted and fell back onto the mattress.   
“Yeah, he does, but he can wait for ‘em ‘til tomorrow,” he assured her. She scooted closer again, into his arms.   
“I killed him,” she sobbed. “Took the wench and bashed his head in.”   
“Shhh, ya didn’t.” How could she switch gears like that? Was she aware of what she was saying? “Scumbag’s still alive, I checked.” For how much longer was a different story.   
“But I wanted to.” Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him. Yeah, probably awake.   
“‘t was self defense, sweetheart. Not your fault.” She hummed, her breathing evened out so he figured she was asleep again.   
Fuck, they managed to make her feel guilty for saving her own life. Tora was seething, the only thing holding him back from slipping out and killing them right away was Poppy who threw an arm and a leg over him, clinging to him like some koala. He should change her nickname.   
He only woke up once more that night when she kneed him in the balls. 

Everything hurt. Poppy hadn’t even opened her eyes when her brain already registered all the aches and pains in her body. Her throat was dry, her arms and shoulder sore, some scrape on her knee tingled and the right side of her face was smushed against something hard. Well, not rock hard, but not exactly her pillow either.   
She groaned and blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light, fighting against the headache already forming between her temples.   
“Mornin’, sweetheart.”   
Poppy pushed up on her elbows and stared at Tora. He was wearing a shirt, wrinkled and with some drool stains which made Poppy wipe her mouth with the back of her hand.   
“Morning. What - where am I?” This wasn’t her apartment. Was it his place?   
“Quincey’s guest room,” he said and twisted to reach for the water bottle. “Here, I guess ya need that.”   
She did. It was cold, soothing her throat and would hopefully help against the headache.   
“Oh… have you been here with me all night?” She handed the bottle back when it was empty, stealing another glance at him. He was also wearing jeans.   
“Ya don’t remember?” He smirked, his dimples on full display. “Ya begged me to sleep with ya. How could I say no to ya?”   
She begged him to -? Nope. Never happened.   
“You - you are kidding, right? This is a prank, isn’t it?” Grabbing the hem of her shirt she pulled it further over her thighs.   
“Nah, not a prank. Ya asked me to stay, so I stayed. Don’t worry, I behaved. ‘s no fun if you’re out of it anyway. And sweetheart, you were so high like a goddamned hot air balloon.”   
He stretched, working the muscles in arms and legs and Poppy couldn’t help but stare. Especially at his middle region…   
“Oi, Bobby, my eyes are up here,” he laughed, making her blush. “What are ya starin’ at?” “N-nothing!” she quickly stammered, her blush deepening by a few shades.   
“Lemme assure ya, it’s not ‘nothing’,” he teased, making her blood boil.  
“Stop that, you old perv!” Poppy crossed her arms in front of her and pouted.   
“I’m the perv here? I’m not the one goin’ commando and flashin’ my butt every time I turn around.” He got up and off the bed, leaving Poppy to scramble for the blanket. “Don’t panic, Bobby, I didn’t look.”  
“Why not?” Her eyes were wide as he laughed.   
“What, ya want me to? Nah, I ain’t a creep.”   
“No, I mean, why am I not wearing panties?” With the sheets wrapped around her Poppy wiggled off the bed.   
“‘Cause yours got wet,” he grinned and stretched once more.  
“But but…” At a loss for words Poppy just stared at him, her eyes wide and slowly filling with tears.   
“Sweetheart, I’m just messing with ya. How much of last night do ya remember?”   
She wracked her brain, brow furrowed, chewing on her bottom lip.   
“Not much. You - you found me there and took me away. I was in pain and in panic, everything is a blur.”   
“Took ya her to Quince’s, called a doc, got ya cleaned up and tucked ya in, sweetheart, that’s all.” He ran his hands through his hair before he tied it up into his usual half-bun.   
“Thank you.” Poppy dropped her gaze to the floor. “Also for coming to find me.”   
“Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.” 

Breakfast was a strange event. Quincey wore a silk robe and a sleep mask pushed up into his hair. Under a lot of chatter he had handed Poppy a shopping bag with a sundress, a pair of panties and some concealer.  
“For the bump on your forehead,” he explained and beamed at her. Once she was dressed she felt much better already, but the most important question stayed open. Neither Tora nor Quincey told her if she could go home. Instead Quincey offered her different food and drink options while Tora wordlessly shoveled eggs and bacon into his mouth.   
“Listen, I’m grateful for your help and breakfast has been lovely, but I really need to go back home,” she interrupted another of Quincey’s stories and pushed her plate back.   
Quincey and Tora shared a quick glance.  
“Yeah, that won’t happen,” Tora simply said and reached for another piece of bacon. 

After the night without much sleep Tora was grumpy. Teasing her had been fun, but he deserved that much. He could barely sleep, not with the way she had pressed that perfect peach of an ass against him.   
Breakfast helped.   
Poppy kept asking to go home which didn’t help at all. They still had to find a way to deal with Scharch.  
His phone rang. With a grunt Tora left the kitchen and took the call.   
“Hey, Big Bro, just a quick warning: Scharch is asking around where to find you. Did you do something to piss him off?” Gyu asked.   
“Yeah. And I’ll do even more to piss him off. Tell me if ya hear anything else, will ya?”   
“Sure thing. Take care.”   
Tora ended the call.   
“Oi, princess! Get ready, we gotta leave!”   
They would leave Poppy in the apartment; she was safe here. He couldn’t guarantee for Scharch’s safety, though.


	13. Coup de grâce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora and Quincey make sure that Scharch won't go after Poppy anymore - both in their very own, different ways, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last chapter. I loved reading all your comments, your guesses, your outrage. It fueled me while writing this.   
> Hopefully you enjoy how I wrapped this all up; I'm a sucker for not too clear endings, but I think you will be able to figure it out. I wasn't very subtle 😅  
> I found the MPL fandom here on AO3 quite lively; I am tickled that some of my favorite writers for this fandom here also read and commented my stories.   
> Fanfic writers, you rock!  
> Fanfic readers, you rock, too!

“Are you going to kill them?” Poppy asked, again if she remembered correctly. Had he ever answered that question?   
“He can’t,” Quincey said, serious for once. “It’s about ranks and hierarchy.”   
Tora’s expression darkened further; a stark contrast to the relief she felt.   
“I don’t want them to die,” she slowly explained,” I just want them to stay away from me.”  
“Ah, honey, that is the problem. I don’t know about his henchmen, but Scharch is a rather - obsessive man.” Quincey patted her shoulder and stared at Tora pointedly over her head.   
“You - you know him?” Poppy looked up, eyes wide in surprise.   
“Do I - I mean, yes, I know him. Or better, I know of him.” With a nervous laughter Quincey rushed off to grab some more fruit from the counter.   
“What exactly does Quincey do?” she whispered towards Tora. “I mean, except for this mentor thing for boys like Ben.”   
“The princess does whatever the fuck he wants,” Tora answered with a grin.   
“I can hear you,” said princess huffed from the kitchen.   
“You said you had a plan,” Poppy steered the conversation back to the original topic. “Or did I just dream that up?”   
“Ya dreamin’ of me?” Tora asked, one eyebrow cocked. Poppy chucked a grape at him, making him laugh.   
“Quinceton had an idea that might work. So Scharch is higher ranked than most people in the organisation,” he grated out, his face darkening further with every word he spoke.   
“Higher ranked than you?” Poppy half asked, half stated. They never really talked about his job after all.   
Tora grunted.   
“Touchy subject, honey,” Quincey translated and handed Poppy a bowl with pineapple pieces. “Tora is - not even part of the ranking. Not really. He is one of a kind, after all.” Emphasizing his statement with a wink Quincey sat down again.   
“Think of it like this: Scharch is a regional manager. He is responsible for a certain area and in this area, everything more or less is his responsibility. Tora, on the other side, is a specialist. Highly sought after. He’s not part of the day to day business, but sometimes he gets involved with it and whenever something goes wrong, they call for him to fix their mess.”   
Poppy nodded. “I think I get it now. Tora is like the secret weapon and Scharch is responsible for keeping the business running.” A secret weapon. What had he called himself back then? Lethal. A lethal, secret weapon. Poppy eyed him carefully, how he sat there and listened to Quincey talk about him as if he wasn’t even there.   
“Okay, but what does all of this have to do with getting him off my back?” she finally asked. Her head was spinning with all the new information.   
Quincey grinned. “Well, we know someone even higher up than Scharch. So we are going to pull rank on him.” 

Tora hated those games. Who had the bigger balls, who had the higher rank? He prefered the direct approach. Who could take the most hits without getting knocked out. That simple. But Scharch wasn’t simple and he wouldn't back down. He was a sick fucker who did everything he had to do to get what he wanted.   
Well, he wouldn’t get Poppy, that much was certain.   
Tora tuned out while Quincey gushed about Tora’s job in the organisation, making it sound so much more glamorous than it actually was. He was a secret weapon, alright, but still only a weapon. And as that he knew only one way to deal with people like Scharch.  
One glance over to Poppy who seemed to relax with every word Quincey said he also knew he could never let her know about it. Good thing he was discreet. 

T-Bone coughed. This was bad. First the chick almost bashed his head in after breaking his nose and smashing his balls, and now Scharch almost beat him to death for the escape of the chick. Shit, he should have known better than to hang around that psycho. If only he had stayed under one of the other bigshots. He winced as he moved, his broken arm and ribs still giving him hell.   
The worst thing was that Scharch was still in a terrible mood. He was furious, could barely mask his anger and kept asking people where that Tora guy was.   
T-Bone hadn’t seen him anyway. Well, he had seen him before, the Tiger of Ares Street was famous in the Balthuman clan after all, but not on that day. Well, he had been unconscious anyway.   
Well, he wouldn’t want to be in either of their shoes once they met. He was already hurting everywhere after all.

“So you expect me to just sit here and be a good girl while you take care of this threat to MY life,” Poppy summed up what Quincey had lengthily explained. This man really liked the sound of his own voice.   
Tora chuckled at the ‘good girl’ part, but quickly schooled his expression back into stone when she glared at him.   
“Yes, exactly.” Quincey beamed at her.  
“No.” Poppy rested her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I can’t go home as long as this is still up in the air, that much I understand. But I refuse to be the damsel in distress.”   
“You’re staying here.” Tora crossed his arms in front of his chest.   
“Nuh-uh,” Poppy objected.   
“Yes.”   
“Uhhh, please don’t fight. People fighting always make me queasy,” Quincey interrupted them before the situation could escalate. “Poppy, honey, I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but you have to do something for me. You asked earlier what I do for a living.” He dramatically draped himself over the couch and sighed. “I’m a writer. And booboo here told me you are working for a publishing company. Well, as chance would have it I just ended my contract with my old publisher and am looking for a new home for my novels.”  
He patted on the couch next to him and Poppy followed his invitation warily.   
“So, I want you to have a look at my latest manuscript. Tell me your honest opinion. If we work well together, I will consider signing with your company.”   
Poppy pursed her lips. “You are a writer?” She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she was trying to look right through him.  
Quincey nodded eagerly and pointed towards a shelf filled with books. “There are some of my finer works. They are all wonderful of course, steamy and poetic and filled with longing, but those are my favorites. And I have an unfinished draft right here that I would love to discuss with you, honey.”   
She inspected the shelf, eyes widened when she saw the name on the covers. “Q.B. Noyouko? You are Noyouko?!”   
“You have heard of me?” The pleased expression on Quincey’s face made Tora roll his eyes. Diva.   
“Yes, I mean, I was looking for you and - wow…”  
“So you will stay here, in my apartment, with some tea and cookies and my first draft?” Quincey purred and Poppy gave up.   
“That actually sounds not too bad. But you will be careful, okay? Both of you?”   
“Don’t worry, honey, with booboo at my side I will be safe.” Grabbing his jacket Quicney waved at Poppy who stared at Tora.  
“Just - take care, okay? Not only of him, but mostly of you.”   
Tora’s expression softened. “I will, don’t worry. Ya be good and stay here. That way I won’t have to worry ‘bout ya on top of worrying ‘bout him.” He flashed her a smile before he got serious again. His face would stay stony for the rest of the day. 

Scharch paced up and down the small room, waiting for someone to call him into Vincent Balthuman’s office. Going directly to the top of the hierarchy would be the smartest move, he had figured. Tora was Balthuman’s personal attack dog, now he better put him back on his leash. No matter why he had taken the chick, it was Scharch’s, he had found her and now he could do with her whatever the fuck he wanted.   
The fact that it had been so easy to get an appointment with the boss also was a good sign. Mr. Balthuman would be on his side, he had always enjoyed Scharch’s creativity when it came to his games. Hell, he had even requested Scharch’s assistance a few times. If that didn’t mean something!   
The door opened and a very young, very sexy girl showed him inside. She would be too easy, he decided and immediately lost interest. It wasn’t fun when it was too easy. Besides, messing with Mr. Balthuman’s personal assistants was probably a bad idea, even for him.   
He straightened his shoulders and followed her into the den of the lion.

Not a lion was waiting for him, but a tiger. Stoic, silent, arms crossed in front of his chest to show off his biceps Tora sat in a chair, eyes glaring longswords at Scharch.   
“Boss.” Scharch nodded towards Vincent fucking Balthuman, a grin on his lips.   
“You know my son?” Vincent gestured towards the other seat taken by Quincey.   
“Yes, of course. Hope you’re well, young Master Quincey.”   
Quincey snorted and rolled his eyes.   
“So, um… I’m glad you found time for me today, so, should I cut right to the chase?”   
Vincent leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”   
Scharch glanced at Tora who glared back. He cleared his throat and looked back at Vincent.   
“Tora helped himself to something that’s mine,” he explained, ignoring the way Tora moved in his chair, leaning forwards as if he was ready to leap.   
“So?” Reaching for a glass on his desk Vincent looked from Quincey to Tora.   
“Yes. And you taught me that trust is important within the organisation. That we need to have each other’s back.”   
“Sounds like me,” Vincent admitted. Scharch’s grin widened. “The problem is just, Quincey here has some similar claims, just with you being the one to steal something.”   
“What?” The grin turned into a frown in under one second.   
“Well, just this morning I told father how one of my closest friends got abducted yesterday and how we could just save her in time before something horrible happened to her.” Quincey lazed in his seat, a picture of the spoiled mob heir.   
“Who?” Scharch suddenly got very aware of the fact that the doors had been locked behind him.   
“My editor, dummy. You might have heard that I have fired my last publisher and now I found a new one. Pretty small company, but their editor is top-notch, pretty little thing with big brown eyes. Does that ring a bell?”   
“No,” Scharch denied. “No, that can’t be the same. The one I was talking about is an accountant and she’s affiliated with that Lam guy I was working on.”  
“Bullshit,” Tora spat out and slowly unfolded from his chair. He placed himself casually between Scharch and the door.   
“Honey, maybe she told you that because, let’s be honest, you don’t look that trustworthy. Fact is that Tora here picked her up in a building in your district, guarded by one of your underlings. Plus, she told us all about you. So the question is, do you mess with me on purpose or are you just too stupid to do a simple background check?” Quincey checked his nails, turning his hand this way and that before he looked at Scharch expectantly.   
“Shit, boss, I - I didn’t know,” Scharch rushed to declare.   
“So you are just incompetent.” With a deep sigh Quincey got on his feet. “Father always says that there’s only one thing worse than a cunning enemy, and that’s a sloppy associate.”   
Scharch’s mouth dropped open. This didn’t sound good.   
“That’s what I always say,” Vincent agreed with a wide grin. “And do you know what I also like to say? A sloppy associate is one I don’t need.” With a wave of his hand Vincent dropped his gaze to some papers in front of him.   
Scharch felt the presence of Tora behind him rather than actually seeing him, but he definitely felt the hand wrapping around his neck from behind.   
Pushed down to his knees he struggled only for Vincent to scoff.   
“You know, I wouldn’t be so mad if this was the first time you fucked up, and until now I always turned a blind eye to your blunders. But knowing you actually went after one of Quincey’s people… that as if you went after one of mine. I don’t care if it was on purpose or just because you are one brainless fucker, but I can’t have you run around and actually lead people when you are this level of incompetent.”   
Tora increased the pressure occasionally, just to make sure Scharch paid attention. And because it was so damned satisfying.   
“Consider this your last warning,” Vincent continued, smirking as he took in Scharch’s red face and wide, panicked eyes. “I will knock you down a few pegs but you get the chance to work your way up again. Just - stay out of my face for the time being.” Another wave of his hand and Tora shoved Scharch face first into the plush carpet.   
“Now get out of here. And stay away from that little editor. She’s mine,” Quincey spoke up, almost growling.   
Tora was impressed. He raised an eyebrow at Quincey, still pinning Scharch to the floor with a hand in his neck. He didn’t even fight back.   
Once Tora took his hand away Scharch scrambled up, but kept his gaze on the floor.   
“So - you let me go?”  
“For now,” Vincent confirmed. “You are to report to Claude from now on, though. And don’t expect him to go easy on you. You won’t even have the time to get stupid ideas anymore.” 

Once the door closed behind Shcarch Vincent turned to his son, a proud smile on his lips.   
“Now, look who found a liking to the family business. I have to admit, when you called me earlier I wasn’t sure what to expect, but you did great. Instilling fear, calling him out on his bullshit - and to bring Tora was also a fantastic idea. You could have handled him a bit rougher, though.”  
Quincey made a face but it was Tora who answered.   
“Didn't want to ruin your carpet.”   
“Ha! Yeah, that stupid fucker was close to shitting his pants. Anyway, I tell the guys to keep an eye on him, so don’t worry about your editor.” Vincent’s promise was equal parts a dismissal so Quincey nodded and followed Tora out after saying his goodbye.  
“Thank god,” he exhaled and sank against the wall outside of the building. “I could hear Scharch’s neck cracking when you grabbed him.”   
Tora chuckled but patted Quincey’s shoulder. “Would have loved to snap it right there, but yeah. Thanks, Quinceton, for helpin’ me out.”   
“No ‘princess’?” They went towards the car, Tora still looking out in case Scharch held a grudge. “And I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Poppy. She’s too sweet and if she’s even halfway decent as editor, I consider this a win-win situation.”   
With a grunt Tora opened the door and slid behind the wheel.   
“Oh, but don’t tell her that I’m actually the Balthuman heir. I don't want her to be afraid of me.” Quincey took the passenger’s seat and pulled out his phone.   
“Yeah,” Tora grumbled. “Me neither.” 

The book was good. Steamy, but also fun and fresh. New twists and turns ever so often, but the underlying motif was familiar, giving her a sense of revisiting an old friend. Poppy was delighted, her pen flew over the pages to scribble down notes and comments wherever she thought fit. Before she realised she was already halfway through the manuscript and the door to the apartment opened.   
“What a day,” Quincey exclaimed and flopped down on the couch. “I think I need a massage and a long bath after this.”  
She eagerly sat up, waiting for Tora to follow and take a seat.   
“So? How did it go?”   
“Well,” Quincey grinned and straightened up,”if he knows what’s good for him he’ll stay away from you. You are officially off limits to him or anyone else from the organisation.” Satisfied with his part in this he slumped back down. “Now, would you be a dear and make me some tea? I’m parched.”   
“Go and get your tea on your own,” Tora rumbled, but Poppy was already on her way.   
“Does that mean I can go back home? And to work?”   
“Only if you put enough concealer on that bruise on your forehead,” Quincey yelled from the living room.  
“Hey, Bobby.” Tora leaned against the doorframe and watched her open drawers and cabinets on the search for tea and utensils. “Ya might wanna wait another day before goin’ back to work.”   
She paused. “Because it’s not safe?” Her voice trembled slightly as she filled water into the kettle.   
“‘Cause ya need some rest. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re safe.” Staying away from her couldn’t ensure her safety, so he would do everything to protect her. 

Poppy closed her apartment door behind her and locked it, just as Tora had instructed her to do. She had stayed in Quincey’s place until dinner and now Tora had taken her home, once again reminding her to call him immediately if anything suspicious happened.   
There was a new security guard in Trevor’s booth and she had Tora on speed dial. Safer than this was impossible.   
And she had Quincey’s number, his manuscript and the promise to work with her.   
A glance in the mirror revealed the dark purple bruise on her forehead; at least the swelling had gone down. Something to be grateful for. After changing into some shorts and a tank top Poppy opened her laptop and looked up the Balthuman Group once more. She must have overlooked something the first time.

Tora waited until the lights in Poppy’s window died down. She was safe now, Scharch wouldn’t dare to act against Vincent’s order, even less when also Quincey was involved. The issue was resolved, but not to Tora’s satisfaction. While pulling rank on Scharch was one thing, it wasn’t what Tora had in mind. It just helped him. Now that Scharch had taken a tumble down the career ladder no one would bat an eye if he disappeared.   
Tora grinned.   
That T-Bag guy would be the first, though. Poppy had only given him a short summary, but he had gotten the gist of it. That and some calls to get info on that guy had Tora’s blood boil. He was on the list for tonight. For Scharch Tora would take his time. And he would enjoy it.   
Tora flicked his cigarette out of the car window and turned on the engine.  
Time to go to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I hate Vincent Balthuman. I am already working on an idea for him, though...


End file.
